


I'll Be Back Home

by Fuzzball457



Category: K-pop, Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Han Jisung | Han-centric, Hurt/Comfort, Hybrids, M/M, Multi, Past Abuse (mentioned), Polyamory, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:20:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27151030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fuzzball457/pseuds/Fuzzball457
Summary: When Jisung is forced to flee his home in the nighttime, he has no idea where he'll end up. He stumbles into the lives of seven strangers and quickly discovers the world is much different than he's always imagined.
Relationships: Bang Chan/Lee Felix, Han Jisung | Han & Lee Felix, Han Jisung | Han/Hwang Hyunjin/Lee Minho | Lee Know, Hwang Hyunjin/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 104
Kudos: 418





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first hybrid fic and tbh I have no idea what I'm doing. But I really wanted to try writing one! Some of the lore/rules of this universe are a little different than in others, but I think everything is explained within the story well enough that no one will be confused. If something isn't clear, please leave me a comment to let me know ^.^
> 
> I'm planning on updating every week on Thursdays. This story will probably be 8 chapters (I'm finishing up 7 now) and somewhere between 20,000 and 25,000 words. This first chapter is a little bit shorter because it's a prologue of sorts. 
> 
> Thanks for clinking on this story ~~ please enjoy!!
> 
> The title is from the translation of "I See" by J.One/3racha because that song makes me cry every time. 
> 
> P.S. I don't know why Young K is Younghyun, but Jae is Jae, not Jaehyung - it just felt right that way for some reason.

The police show up at their door on a Tuesday.

It’s Jae who answers the door. Jisung thinks nothing of it as he wipes his floury hands on a tea towel. He can faintly detect the smell of two unfamiliar humans. They don’t get many people out this way and the last time a bible salesman showed up at their door Jae argued the poor guy into a theological mental breakdown. The sun is hanging low in the sky, refusing to quit even as the clock edges towards dinner time. It’s simply too nice of a day for any crises of faith, so Jisung figures he better see who it is at the door in case they need rescuing from Jae.

“There’s been a report of an unregistered hybrid living at this residence.”

Jisung freezes, just inches from stepping into the hallway and crossing into the line of sight of the front door. Behind him, Younghyun goes stiff, hands still buried in a bowl of pizza dough. It’s only the three of them home and, as possibilities of what might happen in the next few minutes play out in his mind, Jisung can’t decide if that’s better or worse.

“Sorry,” Jae says, voice loud enough for Younghyun’s human ears to easily pick up in case they hadn’t already figured out something was wrong. “I think you’ve got the wrong place. No hybrids here, man.”

Jisung’s heart beats double time in his chest even as ice seems to spread down his arms and legs. He clumsily grabs a hold of his tail to keep it from twitching into sight without him noticing. His fur is long and black, though at the moment there’s a sprinkling of white flour in spots. He buries his fingers in it, letting the softness soothe him.

“Regardless,” one of the officers says, voice stiff and uninterested, “we still have to search the premise. We’d appreciate your cooperation.”

There’s a shuffling before Jae speaks again, his own voice going firm. It sounds like he’s stepped in front of the men, barring them entrance. “Do you have a warrant? Because I was just making pizza and you know how finicky dough is and you’ve got to get it just perfect, you know, a little crisp, a little golden—”

“Sir, if you don’t get out of the way in the next five seconds, I’m detaining you for obstructing an investigation.”

Jisung whirls around even as his ears twitch towards the hallway. He tries to block out the sound of Jae’s protests and the thump his back makes when he’s shoved out of the way.

“What do I do?” he whispers, but Younghyun is staring at him, the horror in Jisung’s chest mirrored back at him from Younghyun’s face. The police are in the living room now. It’ll be a matter of minutes at most until they make their way to the back of the house.

There’s nothing out the back door but a mile of open field and there’s no way he can make it around the house to the semi-coverage of the woods out front without being spotted. There’s nowhere to run. Younghyun appears to come to the same conclusion, pulling Jisung to him and bustling him towards the hallway closet. He helps Jisung crawl under the lowest shelf, pushing him into the corner and throwing a stack of towels on him. A hamper is shoved in front of him for good measure, sealing him off and blocking his sight entirely.

“Everything will be alright,” Younghyun whispers, running his fingers along the tip of Jisung’s tail before closing the door.

Jisung’s eyesight in the dark is better than a human’s, but it’s still substantially weaker than a true cat’s, or even a purebred hybrid. There’s not much to see anyway, other than the hazy outline of the hamper in front of him. Jisung gathers up his tail, pressing it against his chest and stroking his fingers up and down it. It’s something Jae has done for him since Jisung was nothing but a lost kitten. He wishes the older was here now to pet his tail and offer him assurances.

But it’s just him here in the closet. He can just barely make out the sounds of the officers continuing through their house, opening and closing doors. Once or twice the smell of Jae or Younghyun passes by the doorway and he clings onto those seconds. Everything will be fine.

He’s lived with Jae, and eventually his collection of friends, as long as he can remember. There’s nothing official about it, but Jisung’s never minded not being able to go out in public. Without a collar to prove proper channels of ownership, he’s confined to their house, but the large expanses of field and forest around them have prevented it from ever feeling restricting. Jisung likes it here. It’s simple, far simpler than the anxieties and deadlines and sour scents of stress the others bring home with them after long days in the human world.

He shifts slightly and barely suppresses a squeak when a shirt falls on him. It smells like Dowoon and Jisung shoves his face in it, curling forward until there’s nothing but the scent. His ears are pressed flat along his head, preventing him from hearing clearly, but it doesn’t matter. There’s nothing to hear. He just needs to sit here quietly until they leave and everything goes back to normal.

It may be Jae who found Jisung in all the muddy glory of a four year old hybrid on the side of the road in the rain, and brought him home, but the others have become as close as family over the years. Their small slice of peace has never been endangered before.

The closet door flies open, flooding the space with light even under the towels and shirt. Jisung slams his sensitive eyes closed and clamps his jaw shut to prevent a whine from creeping out. The smell of the officer, consisting primarily of sweat and coffee, engulfs the tiny closet.

The sound of his own blood pumping roars in his ears and he shoves his mouth against the shirt just to make sure his racing breaths can’t be heard.

“Like we said, sir, there’s no hybrids here,” Younghyun is saying from somewhere nearby. How can his voice be so calm? He’s a phenomenal liar, Jisung thinks, picturing the polite smile that undoubtedly adorns his pretty features.

The officer grunts and shifts away. Just as Jisung is about to breath out a sigh of relief, the officer’s foot comes back, half-heartedly kicking at the piles of clothes and linens along the bottom of the closet. It makes contact with his thigh more than once, but the man doesn’t seem to realize he’s not kicking fabric anymore. The kicks are unenthusiastic, barely any sting at all. Jisung’s tail is buried in his lap between his chest and his folded up knees, but the base of it is draped on the floor where it curls around from his back.

After a small nudge of Jisung’s thigh, the man’s heel comes down squarely on the base of Jisung’s tail and it’s all over.

He jerks away, unable to stop the cry that bursts out of his mouth. His tail is _sensitive._ It’s thin and delicate, twenty-eight tiny bones nestled together precisely. The pain flies through him, sending a near electric jolt along his body.

“What the hell?”

Younghyun shouts something, but it’s too late as a firm hand finds the shoulder of his shirt and drags him into the hallway.

“Get your hands off of him!” Jae shouts. The second officer restrains him, though barely, and Younghyun freezes, hands out like the officers are wild animals.

“There’s no need to be so rough, Officer,” he says. His voice is thin, barely held together as he tries to remain polite.

“No hybrids, huh?” The man gives Jisung a small shake. Jisung barely manages to stay on his knees and he fights the urge to bury his face in his hands. He can’t be so weak, not in front of his hyungs, not when they’re putting up such a fight to keep him safe. His upper arm aches in the man’s punishing grasp. “I should charge you both right now with obstruction.”

The officer holding Jae groans. “That’s a shit ton of paper, Reg. Let’s just take the hybrid and go. The wife’s making meatloaf tonight and she’ll kill me if I miss it because I’ve got to book two kids.”

“I told you marriage is a death knell," the other chuckles as he pulls Jisung to his feet. "But you’ve got a point. Besides, that one’s got a pizza to attend to, right?” he asks, sneering at Jae. “Best get back to that and stop causing us so much trouble. Get going,” he demands, shoving Jisung down the hall.

“Hey, stop!” Jae screams, nearly slipping out of the officer’s grasp. “You can’t do that! He’s my friend! I found him when he was just a kitten. He’s not bothering anyone out here. He’s not doing anything unsafe.”

“That’s real touching, kid, but this is a hybrid without a collar, no ownership papers, no official ID. Probably not even vaccinated. That makes him a stray. And strays belong in a government facility.”

“You can’t send him to prison,” Younghyun shouts. “He’s a person! He’s not doing anything wrong.”

“He’s not a person in the eyes of the law,” so called ‘Reg’ says, offering a consolatory smile.

“What about adopting him legally?” Jae demands. “Just tell us what to do and we’ll do it! Papers or applications or what, just tell us and we’ll do it!”

“Cut off age for adoption is eighteen. This one’s too old. He’ll be sent to work in a factory, or maybe to a nursing home to be a support animal if he’s smart.”

Jisung can see it, the pieces of his future falling apart before him. No more cooking with Younghyun. No lazy mornings with Dowoon and Wonpil. No afternoon snuggles with Jae or late night conversations with Sungjin. It’s all over. Menial labor in substandard conditions, that’s what awaits the next fifty years of his life, unless he’s lucky enough to die early. 

“Enough of this. Let us do our job and we’ll leave you be, alright? Move, cat.”

He trips more than once on the short walk down the hall towards the front door. It was all borrowed time, he tries to tell himself. Jae found him by chance. By all odds, he should have died in that ditch as a kitten. All of this, this family, this love, it’s so much more than most get. He has to be grateful.

The tears are hot on his face as he steps into the evening light. It’s gorgeous the way it sets the forest alight as it slips low. How many hundreds of times has he watched this exact view? A cup of lemonade in his hand, a homemade meal balanced on his knees as he sat on the front steps? They ate out here often, never thinking much about it, never thinking it’d end someday.

He tells himself to be grateful for the time he had, but all he can feel is the chasm growing in his chest as he thinks about the grey nothing that awaits him. It’s nothing compared to this. It’s not a life.

“Jisung!” His head whips up, both him and the officer stopping in their tracks at Younghyun’s cry.

“Get back here, you little shit!” The other officer shouts from inside, but he’s far too late. Jisung barely has the presence of mind to leap back as Younghyun—the same Younghyun who’s diffused thousands of arguments, who pushes for empathy and kindness and always cooking made with love, that very same Younghyun plows into the police officer, tackling him to the ground and landing a solid right hook to the gut.

“Jisung, run!” He screams over his shoulder. “Don’t look back.”

He doesn’t have a single second to waste. He gets his feet under him and takes off. His slippers make it hard and he’s running about as accurately as a drunk squirrel, but he sprints towards the woods as fast as he can. If he can just disappear in their depths, the evening light will work in his favor, making it hazy for the humans. He can avoid them by scent if he needs to. He knows these woods well, he’ll have the advantage.

Don’t look back, he reminds himsef, even as he hears Younghyun grunt in pain as he’s slammed onto the hood of the car. Don’t look back, he thinks as he hears Jae’s letting out string after string of curses into the night.

With all he’s got, he sprints to the forest line. He leaves everything he’s ever known behind and he doesn’t look back.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all of your support last chapter! This chapter is a little longer and we finally get to meet the rest of SKZ. Please keep in mind as you go forward that some of the assumptions Jisung makes in the next few chapters are incorrect and/or are intended to parallel heteronormative thinking. Be patient with him and the other members (looking at you, Minho)! We're working towards a happy ending, I swear!

The farm isn’t abandoned, not if the assortment of illuminated windows and wisps of upbeat music are anything to go by, but the barn is set back on the property. It’s been a long while since it’s seen any farming activity, with nothing but cobwebs occupying the stalls along the right wall.

Jisung deems it safe enough. The sun has long dipped below the horizon and the burn along his side says he’s been running for a good while. There wasn’t much rhyme or reason to his escape, but he’d booked it through the woods, going farther than he’d ever travelled, including that one summer Jae had suddenly insisted they all go on “family hiking adventures.” The trees had thinned out and he’d passed endless seas of corn crops until finally a small property had come into view. The house wasn’t very different than the one Jisung had grown up in. Old and solid, square on the outside with narrow hallways and oddly shaped rooms inside. This was bigger, maybe even three stories, but the wood frame invoked the same sense of country homeliness.

A smattering of windows were lit up, but the barn had caught his eye immediately. He made his way across the yard with halting steps and a pounding heart before peering into the windows of the seemingly unused barn. Even if there was something in this dust-laden space that was functional, the sun was gone—the next round of farming chores would wait until sunrise. Jisung would be gone by then.

For now, he just needs a place out of the wind to nap. Somewhere to get off his aching feet for just a second. His stomach eagerly reminds him that he’s missed dinner, but he has no interest in trying to catch anything and he hasn’t come across anything ripe enough to eat.

Standing in the entryway, he rings his tail between his hands, ears pressed flat along his hair. His skin crawls with the sweat and dirt that’s seeped along his pores, but, despite all the dumb stereotypes, cat hybrids would no rather lick themselves than the average human. They are however, far more sensitive to the sensation of being unclean.

There’s nothing to do about it, he thinks dejectedly. He’s lucky to have lived a life of such luxury while so many hybrids languished on the streets, especially in the cities. One night in a barn won’t be the death of him.

There’s a ladder in the back of the barn leading up to what once might have been a hay loft. It seems like the best choice to keep out of sight lest someone come in in the morning. He swallows a few times until he can get his feet to move. The ladder is old, the wood rubbed smooth through years of use, but it’s surprisingly clean, missing most of the dust the rest of the area is caked in. A small mercy. Maybe when he wakes up he can see if there’s a water pump in the area.

Instead of getting up in the morning, Jisung thinks as he stifles a yawn while climbing, maybe he’ll hide out here all day, then set out tomorrow night. He has no idea where he’s going or if he should circle back to home.

He nearly chokes on the guilt that coils in his chest as he thinks about Younghyun getting slammed up against the car. Hopefully they didn’t get arrested. Jae always said things were moving in a good direction, that society’s view of hybrids was progressing even if laws weren’t. But maybe Jae lived too much in academia. Maybe outside of the college he attended, things were very different.

It leaves Jisung with precious few options to take. Hybrids are meant to be owned, paired off to one human and left completely to their whims. No one will help a stray hybrid of his age. At best they’d turn him away, at worst he’d end up in the very same facility he’d given up his home to avoid. He isn’t even a purebred hybrid. He can’t shift fully to an animal form, he’s just stuck like this, his twitching black ears and bobbing black tail giving him away in an instant.

Maybe going back is the best plan of action. How much fuss will the police really kick up over one lost stray? He can lay low here for a night, maybe even two then make his way home. It isn’t a great plan and sooner or later he’ll have to do something about his aching stomach, but it’s all his exhausted mind can come up with. It will all work out. He’ll go back and everything will be okay. They’ll be careful. They’ll stay together.

There’s no need to feel sorry for himself because this is just a bump in the road.

His mind finally settles as he crests the edge of the hay loft.

“Leave me alone, Jinnie, I’ll come back when I’m good and ready.”

It was only through pure instinct that Jisung keeps ahold of the ladder and avoids plummeting back to the ground in shock.

The tired voice originates from a lone figure seated across the loft. He’s facing out the window with his knees pulled up and his back to Jisung. The moonlight curves around his slender frame nicely, but Jisung’s heart drops like a rock in his stomach.

He can’t help the faint whine that crosses his lips. He had a plan. He _had a plan_. Because the day had been absolute shit, but fifteen seconds ago he’d settled on a plan and everything was starting to fall back into place and now _this_.

The figure turns, revealing sharp pale features and a head of dark hair. His eyes look comically large in the moonlight.

“What the heck?” he demands as he gets quickly to his feet. “Who the hell are you?”

Jisung squeaks and tries to scurry back down the ladder. Even if cats weren’t notorious for not being able to get down after climbing up things, ladders are not made for speedy exits and Jisung only makes it a few steps before he slips and drops the last few feet. It’s only because he’s so exhausted that he doesn’t land on his feet, or at least that’s what he tells himself as he scrabbles to get up, dust and long stale hay sticking to his hands and jeans.

“Hey! Stop!” The man calls.

Evidently more fluent in ladders, the man gets down from the loft and slaps a hand on Jisung’s bicep before he’s able to get fully to his feet and make a bid for freedom. 

“I’m sorry,” Jisung cries, prying ineffectually at the man’s hands. He nearly loses his footing from his own flailing, but the other man is surprisingly firm and remains unaffected. “Please, I’m sorry. Just let me go and I’ll be on my way, I swear.” The words pour out of his mouth in desperation. If he gets caught, if he gets sent to a hybrid facility, everything Jae and Younghyun did for him will be for nothing. He'll have let them down.

“Stop. Hey, stop!” The man snaps, seemingly irritated at the plethora of apologies. He nibbles on his lib for a moment, glancing across the lawn. Seemingly coming to a conclusion, he says, “We’ll go up to the house and talk to the others.”

A long low whine crawls out of Jisung’s mouth. “Please, I promise, just let me go and you’ll never see me again.” If he’s taken to the house, it’s all over. One man he can escape, but if he’s brought indoors, surrounded by strangers…it’s not looking good.

Seemingly reading his mind, the man frog marches him up to the house, offering no further explanations and keeping a firm grip on his arms from behind. Jisung’s tail curls around him, sneaking under the hem of his shirt and pressing flat against his stomach. The softness he’s always taken such pride in is hardly a comfort, however, covered as it is in dust and grass, and quivering slightly. His ears are flat against his head, but he can still make out a handful of distinct voices as they approach the back door. Someone’s singing along to the radio with a surprisingly strong voice and a few others are laughing at something.

It sounds nice in there, warm and friendly.

He doubts it’ll sound the same in a few minutes.

“Found something in the barn you might want to see,” the man says as he yanks open the screen door and shoves Jisung into a small family room. The voices drop away immediately and five pairs of eyes blink at him.

The hybrid catches his eye first. A halfbreed like Jisung, he’s tall and pretty with a fluff of orange hair and bright, curious eyes. But the ears are always a dead giveaway. A dalmatian hybrid if the white and black spotted ears flopped along his head are anything to go by. Maybe a little collie in the mix, based on the tail, which is just a bit fluffier than one would usually see on a dalmation. For a second, Jisung loses himself in the dozens of tiny spots scattered across his cheeks. They could almost pass for freckles, but they match the spots on his ears too well.

There’s three humans, two on the couch and one leaning on the windowsill, and what at first appears to be a small fox resting on the arm of the couch. But the eyes are intelligent and the smell isn’t quite right.

Jisung’s never seen a purebred before, but he recognizes the small fox as one nonetheless. It’s not all that common nowadays to find hybrids who can shift fully one way or another, but this is certainly one. The fox’s little black nose twitches as he stares at Jisung and, despite the massive size difference, Jisung feels the hair at the back of his neck stand up.

The human by the window moves abruptly, scooping the fox into his arms and stepping back as though Jisung might launch an attack any second. The human’s face is stern, made sterner by his razor sharp jawline, but his hoodie is pink and it swallows his diminutive form in a decidedly cute way. The fox shoots the human a look, somehow conveying displeasure even without human features, before turning back to watch.

“Minho, what’s going on?” one of the other human asks with a slight accent as he gets to his feet. He has a head of curly blond hair and his face is carefully neutral as he takes a few telegraphed steps forward. Jisung appreciates the careful way he moves. As is, his heart is thrashing around in his chest, and it’s a minor miracle his knees haven’t given away yet. It’s still only the one man from the barn, Minho apparently, between him and the scrfeen door. Maybe if he’s sudden enough, he can get by and get out into the night before anyone notices.

“Where’s Hyunjin?” Minho demands suddenly, nearly sending Jisung flying across the room from his unexpected closeness.

The blond levels him with a loaded look. “He went to bed.”

Minho says nothing to that. He nudges Jisung further into the room so he can close the door fully, cutting off the chorus of peepers and crickets. As the lock clicks into place, ice slides down Jisung’s spine. What’s going on? If they’re not going to bring him to a facility then what exactly are they planning on doing with him? The dalmation hybrid looks well fed and cared for, but that doesn’t mean a dingy cat dragged in from the barn will receive the same treatment. Especially if they’ve got a purebred fox hybrid. Those can ring up quite the pretty penny. It’s downright bizarre to see multiple hybrids in one living space, especially with multiple humans, but maybe the purebred is privileged enough that it doesn’t even count as two hybrids? It’s unsettling regardless.

Scenarios too horrible to process flit across his mind rapid-fire. They’ll torture him, make him their slave. Maybe the dalmation hybrid is some sort of sex slave. Maybe living out his life in the mundane horrors of a hybrid facility would have been better.

“Hyungs, you’re scaring him,” the dalmation hybrid whines, shooting a glare around the room. He comes up beside Jisung, batting Minho out of the way and offering Jisung a smile. He smells fresh and bright, like an early summer morning, and Jisung can’t detect any linger hints of pain or fear. “I’m Felix,” the dalmation offers, looking expectant.

Is this a trap? It’s a wives-tale that knowing a hybrid’s name means you own them, it’s definitely a wives-tale. And it’s not like Felix could own him. It’s stupid, his hesitation, but he’s on his own for now; he can’t take risks.

“Han,” he says, hoping it serves enough of a middle ground. Either Felix assumes it’s a nickname or doesn’t find it odd to be offered a family name because he only nods, smile still bright and inviting, and guides Jisung to an armchair opposite the couch. The music plays on in the background, keeping the silence from becoming overwhelming.

Felix crouches in front of him. His ears are up, twitching curiously, and his tail is waving lazily. No hints of distress. “It’s nice to meet you, Han. First thing first, are you alright? We don’t have a ton of medical supplies, but Minnie’s training to be a mini doctor—”

“It’s called a Physician’s Assistant, hyung, and you know it,” the third and final human grouses, staring at Felix with his arms crossed and a flat expression on his face. “It’s not a good pun and if I have to hear it one more time I’ll throttle you all in your sleep.”

Felix doesn’t look alarmed at the death threat, but Jisung edges an inch or two away from the grumpy PA-in-training just in case.

“How’s it fair to throttle all of us?” the one holding the fox complains. “Hyunjin came up with the whole Minnie the mini-doctor thing, take it up with him.”

The blond massages at his temples for a second. It’s similar to the look Sungjin wears sometimes, Jisung thinks, before abruptly stopping that train of thought. This isn’t the time for jokes. He can’t let his guard down. Just because Felix appears nice doesn’t mean anything.

“Han-ah,” the blond says, “can you tell us if you’re hurt? Or if you need something to eat or drink?”

“Or maybe why you were creeping around in the barn?” Minho adds from the doorway. His eyes are the only ones that remain suspicious. His face is brutally void of any emotion, but his arms are crossed and he’s leaning on the wall in a way that obstructs Jisung’s immediate access to the door.

“I’m sorry,” he says, voice tiny under the weight of their gazes. They don’t look mean and they don’t look like they’ll hurt him, but how can he know? Good people turn strays over to facilities every day. It’s what people are _supposed_ to do. Hybrids are too human to just euthanize once they’re past adoption age, but they’re not human enough to be allowed to exist independently. Not all the facilities have bad conditions, but no matter how hard Jae tried, Jisung has seen the constant stream of hybrid facilities on the news for abuse or mismanagement or whatever other god awful thing humans have dreamed up. The facilities are supposed to be safe places for hybrids too old to ever be wanted to live out their lives in a way that still contributes to society. It’s supposed to be humane.

He doesn’t know what to say, what lie to give. I have an owner, but they lost the papers. My owner died. My owner abused me. Which lie will work best? Is there a lie that will let him walk out of this house under his own will power?

“I don’t think I introduced myself,” the blond says, coming to kneel before Jisung. It’s odd, a human lowering themselves so kindly before a hybrid. It’s something Jae would do, but Jae’s an exception. Jisung has watched TV. He knows the laws. He knows how hybrids are treated. He has no legal owner, just a slightly older boy who took him in and gave him a family and stayed by his side as they grew. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t know what it’s like. There’s a hierarchy of respect and this human is violating it without a second thought. “My name is Christopher Bang, but you can call me Chan. The guy in the pink hoodie is Changbin and that’s Seungmin, our resident mini doctor, next to him. The lurker by the door is Minho. You’ve already met Felix and the fox is our Innie. If he was in human form, he’d demand you call him Jeongin, but you can call him Innie anyway.”

The fox snaps it’s jaws a few times in displeasure.

_You can call me Chan?_ What the hell was he supposed to do with that? Another trap? Chan wasn’t his master, but no way a human, a stranger at that, would let a hybrid address him so informally. But wasn’t ‘call me Chan’ a pretty clear directive? Would he get mad if Jisung disregarded his wishes?

Jisung decides to never directly address the older male.

“Hello,” he says politely, bowing slightly as they all stare expectantly. Chan beams at him.

“You look like you’ve had quite the night, Han-ah. You’re more than welcome to stay the night, but first I’d like to ask again if you’re hurt at all, or if you need something to eat or drink.”

Jisung’s brain screeches to a halt. 

Stay the night? _Stay the night?_ Is this some sort of backwoods hospitality tradition of providing outcasts with a good night’s sleep before handing them over to the cops? Or maybe he looks so pitiful Chan’s worried Jisung will croak right here and now and they’ll be brought up on some kind of charges.

Before he can spin himself out trying to figure out the best way to answer the question, his stomach lets out a loud growl of hunger.

“Food it is then,” Chan says with a smile.

“Oh, no, no, that’s not necessary,” Jisung says, even as his stomach feels more taught and hollow by the second. “I don’t want to impose.”

“Why were you in the barn?” Minho barks from the doorway, earning a glare from Felix and a look of disapproval from Chan.

“I wasn’t stealing anything, I swear. I just…I was looking for a place to sleep.” He glances between Felix and Chan, hoping his face reads as earnest. Felix can probably smell the desperation on him. Maybe he’ll vouch for Jisung as a fellow hybrid.

Chan’s hand comes to rest on his knee. His eyes are wide and worried as he meets Jisung’s. “Don’t you have a home? An owner who’s worried about you?”

“I…I…” His heart goes off again as he fumbles around the lies in his mouth. Which one will cause the least damage? He just wants to go home and curl up in the bunk beds he shares with Dowoon. Dowoon always lets him have the top even though he gripes about it and sometimes they stay up late talking about all sorts of things both silly and deep. The window in the room is large enough that they can both look out of it from their respective bunks and on a clear night, the stars stretch as far as the eye can see. Is Dowoon there now, filling in one half of a bunk bed?

Jisung would give anything in the world to be there right now.

It’s not a lie that comes to his lips. Instead, a cry bursts out, jagged at the edges as he tries to shove it back down. Tears come just as fast and before he knows it he’s sobbing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Jisung is struggling. I promise happy and cute things will come in the next chapter! Oh, and Hyunjin too! I had a lot of fun crafting the members as different types of hybrids - I'm super curious to hear your thoughts.
> 
> Thank you for reading ^.^ Comments & kudos mean the world if you have the time. Have a great weekend, everyone! Hmu on tumblr  if you have any questions/comments/want to talk SKZ/kpop/literally anything.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix & Jisung soft hours and Hyunjin finally enters the scene.

When Jisung bursts into tears, Chan lets out a small exclamation of surprise, tumbling back on his heels.

This is a mistake, Jisung knows. This could make everything so much worse, but other than Minho’s chilly welcome wagon, they’ve been nothing but kind to him. His brain has apparently taken that as a cue that he’s safe enough for a breakdown.

He just wants to go home. Everything smells different here. Every sound sends his ears flicking this way and that. He wasn’t hurting anyone. He wasn’t doing anything wrong. A small corner of the world to exist quietly in doesn’t seem like it should be too much to ask. He doesn’t know if his family is safe, if they’re hurt or worried. He just here, at the mercy of strangers.

“Oh, you poor thing,” Felix says. Jisung catches a whiff of his gentle warmth and tumbles forward onto the floor and into Felix’s arms. Despite his slim stature, the dog hybrid catches him easily and pulls Jisung to his chest. He rubs a hand along Jisung’s back and the velvety softness of Felix’s tail brushes gently over Jisung’s hand as it wags slowly across the floor.

“What should we do?” Chan asks from somewhere above them. “He looks well cared for. Surely someone somewhere is missing him.”

“Tomorrow, hyung, tomorrow,” Felix says, shifting so he can look up to address Chan. Distantly some part of Jisung startles at hearing a hybrid address a human so informally, and with an instruction no less. Jisung has always thought Jae and his friends were the only ones like that, that it was something bizarre and special they had. It was a far cry from the way hybrids were depicted in shows and books and an even further cry than the barbaric columns of hybrid legislation he saw in the papers. There are rules and etiquettes, ones Jisung has always been pleased to not have to know. But now he feels out of his depth. Is Felix exempt because he’s lived here a long time? Will Jisung be expected to follow more standard guidelines for hybrid-human interactions?

Jisung goes ramrod straight as a new smell filters past his nose. Another hybrid. He looks up over Felix’s shoulder and goes still.

Avian hybrids are rare. But an _owl hybrid?_

Jisung has never seen anything as gorgeous as the hybrid stopped halfway down the stairs. Scattered amidst the silky waves of dark black hair that surround a delicate face are a dozen or so feathers, white along the body and ringed with black at the tip. One of the hybrid’s hand remains stuck on the banister and Jisung can just make out a white cropping of downy baby feathers around his wrist, edging onto the back of his hand. But it’s his eyes…a hazel so light they look golden, edged with flecks of silvery grey.

Frozen on the stairwell, he stands with all the power and grace Jisung would expect of a snowy owl hybrid. The sleeves of his oversized t-shirt are rolled up to reveal well defined arms, but he holds his tall frame with a dancer’s refinement. Jisung’s fingers twitch with a desire to run his hand along the feathers and bury his nose in the owl’s neck. He wants to touch and to smell and to explore.

“Hyunjin,” Minho says, moving quickly around Jisung to stop at the bottom of the stairs and offer Hyunjin an apologetic smile.

“What’s going on?” The owl hybrid asks, eyes darting between the room’s occupants. His voice is light and soft. “He smells upset.”

“Let’s go to bed. I’ll explain everything,” Minho says, voice a far cry from the cold way he’d addressed Jisung. Minho’s hand reaches up and Hyunjin doesn’t waste a single second before reaching out to meet it.

_Oh._

Of course, he thinks, as Hyunjin and Minho disappear up the stairs, hand in hand. That makes sense. Two beautiful people would naturally go together. No wonder Minho was so frosty to a cat hybrid, having his own bird hybrid to take care of.

His shoulders sink slightly and some part of his mind moans sadly, but Jisung can barely keep the scowl off his face. What, did he think he and some random owl hybrid were going to run off into the sunset together? Who even heard of two hybrids being allowed to be together, let alone without human masters at their side?

“Yeah, so that’s Hyunjinnie,” Felix says, still rubbing Jisung’s back. “I promise he and Minho-hyung are not normally such a mess. They’re just both emotionally constipated and it comes to a head every now and then. But back to you. If you’d like I can show you where the bathroom is and you can get cleaned up. You can use Innie’s bed since he hardly ever sleeps in human form.”

Jisung glances over at the fox, still cradled in Changbin’s arms, expecting to find disgust or at least displeasure at a halfbreed sleeping in his bed, but Jeongin only cocks his head at him.

“Alrighty,” Chan says with a small clap. “Felix, if you can bring Han upstairs and get him settled, I can bring you guys a snack. The rest of you, to bed.”

There are indeed three floors to the house, but Felix brings him to a bathroom on the second floor. It’s beach themed, with light blue linens and pictures of open waves. It’s nice. The little rug is squishy under Jisung’s feet. Felix offered to take his shoes before they came up here and he’s not sure where they ended up, but he’s grateful to be able to scrunch his toes in the softness.

“Ae you a bath or shower kind of guy?” Felix asks. “I know sometimes cat-hybrids are finicky with water, so it’s whatever you want.”

“A…a bath?”

“Sounds good. You can use any of the towels on this rack, they’re all clean. We’re about the same size, so I’ll just grab a few of my things for now and leave them outside the door. The things in the white bottles are the ones I use because they don’t have perfumes in them, but feel free to use whatever catches your eye.”

“Felix,” he calls as the other goes to close the door and leave Jisung alone in this little island of a bathroom. He doesn't know how to put it into words. He doesn’t know why Felix, just as much a stranger as the rest, provides such comfort. All he knows is that he’s in a very unfamiliar world all of a sudden and he doesn’t want to be alone. “Can you…?”

“You want me to stay?” At Jisung’s hesitant nod, Felix smiles kindly. “Of course. Let’s get the bath going and I’ll close my eyes while you get undressed.”

Felix does as he says. They fill the bath with overly warm water and add some bubbles that have a very gentle scent, something akin to line-dried linen. Felix gives him privacy to strip and dip into the blissful warmth. At some point Chan stops by to drop off a tray of hot chocolates and cheese and crackers.

“Isn’t it weird to eat in the bath?” Jisung asks once they’ve settled. Felix is seated next to the tub, leaning on the wall near Jisung’s toes so they can speak face to face. The tray is balanced on a small stool where they can both reach it and Jisung finds himself rapidly shoving it in despite his reservations about the strangeness of it all.

“So what if it is?” Felix asks, cramming cheese in his mouth. “You’re hungry, baths are nice. Why not do both at the same time, yeah?”

The bath is nice. His legs burn from running so far and his back is cramped and tense from worry. The water sooths his angry muscles and the bubbles and light scent work wonders on his mind.

“Are they really that nice?” Jisung asks, surprising them both. His eyes go wide and he backtracks as quickly as he can. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply—”

“No, it’s alright,” Felix is quick to assure, patting Jisung’s hand softly. “I know there are plenty of humans out there who treat hybrids like crap. But it’s not like that here. I’ve known Chan for a very long time and everyone else for almost as long. There’s not one person in this house who would lay a hand on you.”

“Is Chan your owner?”

“No, Seungmin is.”

He can’t keep the surprise off his face. “Seungmin? The grumpy doctor kid?”

Felix barks out a laugh, tail whipping back and forth in pleasure. “I wouldn’t call him that to his face, but yeah, that’s him. It’s sort of a long story, but we’re not really about owners in this household. It’s just for the sake of the law, so we can go out in public with collars. Chan and I met when we were young and we started dating when we were sixteen. I think we both knew we’d end up together long before that though.”

That’s news to Jisung. But it does explain the informal way Felix spoke to him. “But why wouldn’t Chan be your master then?”

“Chan didn’t want it,” Felix says, shaking his head gently. Jisung feels offended on behalf of his new friend. Felix seems wonderful, how could Chan possibly reject him? “It’s not like that,” the dog hybrid clarifies, likely sensing Jisung’s peeved response. “Chan didn’t want to be my master specifically because we were dating. I think he was worried it would put too much of a power dynamic into our relationship, that it’d force me to stay with him even if I didn’t want to be or that I’d feel like my residency in his house was a condition of our relationship. So he had Seungmin do it, to ease the pressure. Seungmin’s super organized and proper, he’s a good person for legal things like that. He knows hybrid rights well.”

The thoughtfulness of the choice is surprising.

“Han,” Felix says slowly, but doesn’t continue. Instead he looks at Jisung’s tail, draped over the edge of the tub. Wet as it is, it’s a far cry from the majestic floof it normally is and instead resembles something very wet and very dead. Felix meets his eye and Jisung nods his permission. The dog hybrid takes Jisung’s tail between his fingers very gently and works at untangling the dozens of tiny knots that have taken up residence in the last twelve, very hectic hours. “We’re trying not to push. Chan would never force you to say anything, but…I’m worried about you. Is there anything, anything at all you can tell me?”

It’s not hard, looking into Felix’s huge eyes, to tell the truth. He spills it all in a rushed, tumbling voice.

It had never seemed like a problem before, the fact that Jae, or any of them, never adopted Jisung through official channels. When they were young it was out of the question. Jae was running from his own troubled past, and then there was the money it necessitated…over the years it slipped further and further from their concerns. It had never bothered Jisung, staying home with their vast chunk of land. Honestly, even when Jae brought it up, slivers of anxiety dripped down Jisung’s throat. Hybrids aren’t treated well by society. That’s a fact. Why would he want to leave their utopic home just to accompany one of the boys on a grocery run, stumbling over arcane social human-hybrid hierarchies the whole time and likely getting heckled in the process?

Now it’s too late.

“I’m not sure what to do,” Jisung admits, trailing his fingers through the oil-like residue on the surface of the bath where the bubbles have faded. “I want to go home, but I’m not sure if it’s safe. I’m not sure the police will care all that much about one unregistered hybrid, but what if things go worse next time?”

“You’re not alone,” Felix reminds, still stroking his long since untangled tail. “We can go back with you tomorrow. We can talk with your hyungs, see what they think is the safest move.”

“You’ve already all done so much,” he moans. He’s doing nothing but taking, completely dependent on the kindness of these strangers.

“It’s really no problem. Chan wouldn’t have it any other way. He can take you tomorrow, or I can go with if you want.”

“I don’t understand why you’re helping me.”

Felix only smiles at him. It’s a bit lopsided and Jisung loves it. “Someday you will.”

The bed Jisung is shown, Jeongin’s bed, is a twin frame in a room at the end of the hall, shared with Changbin. The human is already asleep, conked out completely with a stuffed animal in his arms. The fox is nowhere in sight, but Felix assures him it’s alright. The clothes he’s been given are soft and well-worn in a comfortable sort of way.

But even still, even after every kind word Felix offered him, Jisung can’t shake a shred of doubt. They’re _supposed_ to turn him over. They’re breaking the law by not doing so.

Even if he trusts Felix, even if he’s beginning to trust Chan through Felix’s love alone, how can he trust all of them? How can he know he won’t wake up to more police at the door? His body feels glued to the bed, like the weight of lifting it is insurmountable.

Even as his heart stampedes around his chest, his eyes dip constantly. It has to be going on one or two in the morning and the last few hours have been nothing but adrenaline and fear.

He glances out the window on his left before eyeing Chanbin’s sleeping form across the room. It’s only a two story drop and the roof has a pretty steep angle which would cut a few feet off the fall. He could do it, make a run for it right now. They seem like good people. If Felix is to be believed, they’ll help him on his way without any fuss tomorrow. But what if it’s a ploy? What are the odds of another group of boys treating hybrids as well as his own family has? That’s not the world he was raised to fear.

Is he better on his own?

He can reach the window without even sitting up. They trusted him not to run, but that was their mistake. His tired fingers throw the lock open easily. Chanbin doesn’t even stir. It wouldn’t take thirty seconds to pull the window up and slip out into the night. It’s the safest bet. He can find somewhere else to bed down for a few days before heading home.

And yet, he lays there, fingers on the lock, body reclined. It’s comfy in the bed. His body is aching and sore even after Felix’s gentle ministrations. It’d be so easy to just…drift off here. Let tomorrow be tomorrow’s problem.

There’s a small creak from the door and a sliver of hallway light crawls in. Standing in the crack is Jeongin the fox, watching him silently. Is he mad at Jisung for trying to run? Is he hoping Jisung will get out of their hair? Is this the beginning of vengeance doled out for a half-breed sleeping in a purebred’s bed?

The fox crosses the room, delicate feet silent on the carpet, and comes to a stop at the edge of the bed. With a small, cat-like wiggle of his butt, the fluffy orange creature leaps onto the bed, landing squarely on Jisung’s gut. He jackknifes upwards, fingers falling from the lock and air whooshing out before flopping back against the bed. He peers down his chest at Jeongin, but the fox only spins a few times before curling into a tight ball on Jisung’s chest. His damp nose and soft snout press up against Jisung’s arm and he swishes his tail back and forth a few times, letting the long hairs brush across Jisung’s skin, before laying it across his nose.

Jeongin is asleep in a matter of minutes. Jisung follows shortly after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Hyunjin has finally entered the scene (albeit briefly!). What did you think of him as an owl hybrid? I played around with a lot of different ideas, but I really liked the idea of a bird hybrid because I feel like you don't see those often. Also I'm sorry that Jeongin isn't going to have that many lines because I honestly just adore him so much as a fox, he won't be turning back much >.<
> 
> Thank you for reading! If you have the time, comments & kudos are much appreciated. You can also hmu on tumblr at rose-of-tori. Have a great weekend, stay healthy and safe, and I'll see you all next Thursday!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone! It's time for a Thursday update! A quick note - the chapter count has bumped up to 9 because chapter 8 was growing into a monster, so this is now 9 instead of 8. I'm doubting anyone is terribly upset by this >.<
> 
> Thank you to everyone has read and left kudos and comments. I appreciate you all so much!

Jisung nearly flies off the bed when he wakes to two gigantic eyes and a fiery orange snout nearly touching his face. In his haste he sends the small fox tumbling off him and smashes his elbow into the wall. He and the fox send out twin cries of surprise and pain.

Across the room, Changbin sits up like a man possessed, crying out even before his eyes are open. “I’m up! I’m up! What’s happening? I’m up.” Before Jisung can get a response out, eyes still blurry from funny bone-induced tears, the door comes flying open and Chan bursts in, hair pointing in every direction and eyes frantic. He stands in the doorway, mouth hanging open as he gasps and takes the three roommates in.

“What…? I thought I heard yelling? Is everyone…everyone okay?”

“Yes, hyung,” a voice displeased voice grouses from behind Jisung. He screams again, unable to stop himself, as a tall, very naked boy with fierce eyes climbs off of the bed. Who he can only assume is Jeongin rips the blanket out from under Jisung’s feet, wraps it around his waist with a glare, and stalks towards the door. “This idiot decided flailing was a good way to start the day.” Chan steps out of the way without missing a beat and Jeongin disappears into the bathroom, slamming the door pointedly behind him.

“Don’t mind him,” Chan says, entirely unbothered, “he’s grumpy in the mornings. And he doesn’t like being a person.”

“Who does?” Changbin asks from across the room, still rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

Jisung privately wonders if there’s more to it than that. A purebred fox hybrid is extremely rare and undoubtedly expensive, far more expensive than a handful of stray kids in the backwoods should be able to afford. If he came to them under different circumstances…well, Jisung doubts it was a loving family and stellar home life that sent him running into the arms of strangers.

“Hannie, there’s breakfast downstairs. I’d really appreciate if you could come down so we could talk a little.” If he sees Jisung’s look of dread, he doesn’t address it. He does, however, add, “Felix will be there as well, of course.”

He doesn’t have much choice. He’s not at all sure what’s waiting down there for him or if Felix spoke with anyone about their conversation last night.

Changbin is still grumbling sleepily by the time they make it downstairs to the table, but his eyes go wide and clear when he catches a whiff of bacon and he drops himself into a chair eagerly. The table is only intended to seat six, but seven chairs are crammed in. Minho, Hyunjin, and Jeongin are absent and Seungmin and Chan are chatting quietly by the stove, leaving a majority of the seats open. He has no idea where he’s supposed to go. Based on the number of platings, hybrids must be allowed at the table, unless there are even more kids tucked away in this house than he met yesterday.

Felix saves him from his distress, smiling at him and patting the seat next to him. Jisung drops into it gratefully. Felix offers another smile and starts passing Jisung dishes to load up his plate.

Jeongin, once more a fox, slinks in not long after Jisung arrives. Changbin doesn’t seem the slightest bit surprised as the fox leaps onto his lap and nips at his hand until Changbin feeds him a piece of bacon.

Seungmin also grabs a seat at the table, nose buried in a textbook as he eats. Chan frowns, but says nothing before turning his attention to Jisung.

“Lixie told me a little bit of what you told him last night, but I’d really like to hear it from you so I can understand more clearly. As much or as little as you’re willing to share is perfect, okay?”

Felix’s small hand gives his leg a squeeze under the table. Jisung appreciates it immensely. He offers Felix a weak grin in thanks. He hopes, no matter how things play out, that he’ll be able to stay in contact with the dalmation hybrid at least.

He looks mostly at his plate as he tells them about what happened yesterday. His heart beats a painfully rapid tempo in his chest. It was one thing telling another hybrid, but humans? He’s basically admitting his family were all criminals harboring an unregistered hybrid and Jisung would like it if these people could help him get back so they could continue to break the law, thank you.

“Geez, no wonder you were such a wreck in the barn,” Minho says from the doorway as Jisung finishes. Jisung starts slightly, not having realized he’d acquired a larger audience half way through. Changbin, Jeongin, and Seungmin are all looking at him with interest as well, having abandoned their previous tasks. Jisung’s breath catches just a bit as he sees the owl hybrid peeking over Minho’s shoulder. His eyes are large and sympathetic, but his face is only that much more beautiful for it.

“Han,” Chan calls gently, reaching across the table to rest his hand on Jisung’s. “First, please know that you’re welcome to stay here as long as you’d like, unconditionally. No one here will bring any harm to you, alright? Secondly…” He nibbles on his lip for a second. “I think…it might be best if I went to speak to your hyungs myself. Whether the police are there or not, I think its best if we keep you here until we know it’s safe for you to return.”

“Oh, no that’s—you really don’t need to—I mean, it’s fine if…” Looking between Felix and Chan, he stumbles over his words. He doesn’t want to stay here, nice though everyone’s been. He wants to go home. He doesn’t want to impose and he certainly doesn’t want to put Chan out of his way.

“It’s really alright. I think that’s the safest course of action. Minho, you want to come with?” Minho gives a shrug and a nod. With a sweatshirt and sleepy eyes, he looks much more docile than the moody grump who’d dragged Jisung in from the barn. In the morning sunlight, he looks almost soft. “Minnie, you’ve got class,” Chan continues, seemingly for his own benefit as he ticks through his charges. “Binnie, don’t forget about work later. That means no going back to bed after breakfast or you’ll oversleep again.” Changbin nods, but Chan turns his gaze to Jeongin, who also nods, apparently accepting the duty of preventing Changbin from sleeping. “Felix, Jinnie, can you…?”

“We’ll stay with Han, hyung, don’t worry,” Felix assures.

“Is there anything you want me to pick up while I’m there?” Chan asks Jisung.

He thinks immediately of the green blanket on his bed. It’s the perfect balance of soft and rough, for the good scratches when he rolls on his back, but most importantly it smells of his family. He swallows. “Just a few changes of clothes would be great. But…I’m not really sure where we are now relative to there?”

Chan puts Jisung’s address into his phone, assuring that it’s not a far drive, though it’s an impressive distance for Jisung to have made it on foot last night.

Plan established, everyone returns to breakfast, Minho and Hyunjin taking seats across from Jisung. Even as he mindlessly shovels rice into his mouth, Jisung can’t stop staring at the feathers in Hyunjin’s hair. They fold in so imperceptibly, it’s almost as if they aren’t there at all. It’s a sight to behold.

The hybrids, minus Jeaongin who trots behind Changbin with a critical eye as he goes back upstairs, are left to the dishes. Not because they’re hybrids, Felix insists, but rather because everyone is equal here and everyone chips in in different ways. Jisung is skeptical. Grab any average hybrid off the street and they’ll tell you their family is great because they don’t beat them senseless, despite a handful of other neglectful actions and abuses. An overabundance of chores is common on the TV shows. Maybe Felix is just blinded.

But Felix seems perfectly happy, getting a little over eager in the soapy water while Hyunjin glares in distaste every time a stray drop hits his arm. Jisung can hardly blame him. It can’t be an easy task keeping the downy feathers ringing his wrists light and fluffy. Eventually Jisung is tasked with drying so Hyunjin can stow the dishes back away, keeping him away from Felix’s enthusiasm. Jisung would pay good money to see the dalmation hybrid let loose with a hose.

He can’t help but think about the way Minho demanded to know Hyunjin’s whereabouts when he first came in last night, as well as the possessive way he squirreled the owl hybrid away upstairs. Humans get like that. Jisung has seen dozens upon dozens of jealousy narratives play out on shows. Surely any human with such a rare hybrid would be equally possessive. Jisung is surprised Minho would leave Hyunjin around a stranger, but Jisung, being a hybrid, probably doesn’t even register as any kind of threat. Not that Jisung is. Even as his heart skips a beat when Hyunjin smiles at him, he knows he’ll never breathe a word about it. Even if Hyunjin wasn’t already attached to a human, a grouchy one at that, relationships between hybrids are virtually unheard of. Even friendships are rare, but that’s mostly a product of the isolation most hybrids live in. One human, one hybrid. That’s how it goes. Much like a pet, a hybrid’s world is narrow, revolving only around their owner.

“Are you alright?” Hyunjin asks.

“Hm?” Jisung blinks, bringing Hyunjin into focus. Hyunjin’s eyebrows crawl up his forehead and he glances down, bringing Jisung’s attention to the dish he’s been drying far past the point of sufficiently dry. “Oh! Yes, right sorry!”

Hyunjin takes the dish, but his free hand lingers on Jisung’s wrist. “Are you sure you’re alright, Han?” His voice is a touch deeper than Jisung expected, but it’s still light and clear. The goldish-amber of his eyes is truly something to behold. They’re almost luminescent in their intensity.

Jisung’s not sure what prompts him to say it, but he does. “My name’s Jisung.”

Hyunjin doesn’t blink, only smiles softly. “Alright, Jisung.”

Abruptly Felix bursts out laughing, offering apologies from behind his hand as Jisung startles. “It’s just…my gosh, Chan is going to be so confused when he gets to your house.”

\--

The morning passes quickly with a thousand tiny discoveries about his new hybrid companions. It’s a bizarre set-up, having so many hybrids in one place, but he can’t say he doesn’t breathe just a bit easier with only the three of them. Jeongin comes out at one point as well, still in fox form as he settles on the back steps to watch their antics.

He learns that Hyunjin is graceful in a royal sort of way and pulls on a face of ice whenever he’s displeased in the slightest, yet he’s equally as prone to falling into fits of obnoxiously loud giggles that bring him to his knees. Jisung tries to make it happen as often as he can. The grass stains on Hyunjin’s jeans suggest he succeeded.

He and Minho have been together for a while, but like Chan and Felix, Minho is not technically his master. It's Seungmin once again, which no one else seems to find as hilarious as he does. When he protests that Seungmin is the youngest human, Hyunjin and Felix just shake their heads, saying he’d understand if he knew the teenager.

Of Hyunjin he also discovers that, despite having only human ears himself, the owl-hybrid gives the best ear scratches. It’s not the same as Jae, or any of his family really, petting his tail - he still keeps his tail to himself, usually curled around his stomach and out of reach - but this is the next best thing, bringing Jisung to his knees with pleasure and eliciting small, rumbly purrs from his throat. It’s the best he can do, being only a halfbreed, but it still makes Felix and Hyunjin squeal with delight and proclaim his cuteness.

He also learns that Felix is exactly as he presents himself. His happiness is genuine and he doesn’t bother with any fronts of composure. How he feels is how he looks. Hyunjin tells him that Felix gets lonely easy and Jisung sees it for himself in the way Felix never lets a chance for physical affection to go unused. It’s not unusual for a dog hybrid, but it does leave him wondering what hurts he might have nursed alone in his past.

He gets vague answers when he asks about how they all ended up here, the only question that gets anything less than clear honesty. It’s a complicated web, he gathers, that started with Chan and Felix and slowly pulled the others in through various streams of connection.

He doesn’t want to push. It doesn’t really matter and it’s hardly any of his business. They certainly seem to be in good hands now, whatever path they took to arrive here, so Jisung is satisfied.

He’s mid-way through making his case to protest the ruling of the cartwheel contest—since he spent almost twice as long as “it” during tag, he ought to be given a point advantage for his weak and tired limbs, but Hyunjin counters that being bad at tag is no reason he should get a boost in an entirely separate event—when Chan and Minho come home.

It’s just past lunch time, but Felix requested they wait for Chan to return home, so they pile back into the kitchen. Even as Jisung vibrates with worry and the need to know, Chan insists they all get some food in their rumbling bellies first.

He doesn’t understand why Chan is watching him chew so intensely until the human finally admits, “Jae and Younghyun got arrested,” and Jisung promptly chokes on the single grain of rice left in his mouth. “But! But!” Chan hurries to add, hands flying out like he’s waving enthusiastically at a boat pulling out of port, “they were only fined for misdemeanors. Dowoon-ssi said Sungjin-ssi was picking them up from the police station right then.”

Felix shoves a glass of water into Jisung’s hand and smacks his back until Jisung can breathe enough to drink it. He vaguely registers Hyunjin and Minho, and even Jeongin, staring at him in quiet concern from down the table.

“Arrested?” Jisung cries, ears flat to his head. “This is all my fault.” He grabs up his tail, nearly pulling the fur out as he wrings it between his hands.

“No, hey,” Chan says, reaching across for Jisung’s hand, only to freeze as the cat hybrid flinches back. Both pairs of eyes go wide, but Jisung is the one who recovers first.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts, terrified that he might have offended the human who had offered up his home free of charge and gone out of his way to check on Jisung’s family. What if Chan withholds more information out of spite? What if he lies about something or refuses to let Jisung leave? “I’m sorry, uh, m-master.” It’s steadier this time and Jisung drops his chin in a small bow, trying to ooze submission and penitence. 

“Jisung,” Felix calls gently, tiny fingers trying to probe Jisung’s chin up.

“Uh, please don’t…we don’t use, uh, that word around here,” Chan says. He’s scratching at the back of his head awkwardly when Jisung finally glances up. Chan offers him a lopsided smile. “But, hey, I’m sorry for scaring you. I shouldn’t have tried to grab you like that.”

Maybe Jae and Chan are related. It’s the only thing he can conclude as he stares blankly at the blond boy. There is no other explanation why Jisung would happen to run into the only two humans on the planet (well, two plus their respective gaggles of boys) that treat hybrids with such kindness. Maybe they were long lost siblings, separated at birth and raised on farms five miles apart. Maybe one of them was kidnapped. Maybe—

“Are you alright?” Felix whispers, gently prying Jisung’s hands off his tail. He looks down, dismayed to find the hair matted and askew from his rough ministrations. He releases the limb immediately and tucks it under his shirt so it’s out of view where he can feel its softness curled along his belly.

He hums absently, unsure if his voice will come out audibly if he tries to speak.

“Han—Jisung, I mean, please listen to me. Dowoon-ssi and Wonpil-ssi, they were both insistent that you not blame yourself. They’re just worried about you. They said the police came back earlier today, so they want you to stay here, at least for now, but I can go back in a few days and check if things have died down yet.”

It doesn’t help the guilt cramping in Jisung’s gut. He shouldn’t have eaten so much rice. It sits like a lead weight, pressing against the button of his jeans every time he breathes, and threatening to crawl back up his throat any second.

“Minho,” Chan calls, apparently recognizing Jisung can’t process a single more word at the second. “It’s possible the police will come knocking on our door to see if we’ve seen anything. Can you let the others know just in case? And make sure Minnie knows to have the hybrids' papers in order, just in case.”

“What should I tell Hongjoong? Unless you intend to keep Jisung inside all day everyday—” Here Jisung’s eyes go wide and frantic, but Felix shushes him and Hyunjin smiles and shakes his head. “—then they’re bound to notice a new cat-hybrid running around.”

“We rent out most of the land since I never could get this lot into tip top farming shape,” Chan explains. “It brings in a little extra money.”

“Do you even know the amount of manual labor that goes into maintaining a farm, hyung?” Hyunjin asks, looking horrified at the mere thought.

Chan only rolls his eyes. “Hongjoong and his boys pretty much only use the back fields and the ones across the road. They’re never around the house—“

“Except when Felix brings them lemonade. And I think Changbin is sweet on that one boy. He’s always looking for an excuse to—”

“Yes, except then,” Chan says, cutting Hyunjin off with an eyeroll. “My point is, Jisung, you don’t have to worry about them.” To Minho, he adds, “Give Hongjoong an abbreviated version. He’s a good guy, his friends will keep their lips sealed. To be honest, I think at least one of their hybrids came to them through less than legal channels as well.”

Minho nods, phone already out as he heads for the living room, tugging Hyunjin behind him. The owl hybrid offers Jisung a quick finger heart before he disappears from view.

“We looked for your phone, Jisung, but we couldn’t find it. You can use mine if you need to.” Chan offers an apologetic smile but Jisung waves it away. He can barely find his phone half the time, he certainly had no expectations that someone else would be able to find it with a cursory look. He has no friends other than those he used to live with; his need for a phone was minimal at most. It’s only now, so cut off from home, that he wishes he kept track of it a little better.

“But that’s not all, Jisung,” Chan continues, reaching for his bag. He drags it onto the table and starts pulling stuff out of it.

Jisung had almost forgotten about the change of clothes he’d asked for. He forgets about it again entirely when Chan pulls the last two items out of the bag: a Ziplock of Sungjin’s cinnamon cookies and Jisung’s favorite green blanket.

He can’t help himself. He tugs it across the table and smashes his face into it, letting the scents of home wash over him.

Chan is a little more composed than Felix and Hyunjin were earlier when the first rumbles of Jisung’s purring becomes audible from where he’s buried in the blanket. But Jisung’s powerful ears can still hear the way he whispers, “Oh my god, he’s adorable,” to Felix.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some progress for Jisung! Things will start to settle in a little bit now (well, until I start throwing a wrench in again lol). If you enjoyed, please leave a comment or kudos - I super duper appreciate them!
> 
> I thought about making Got7 the farming crew, but then I stopped and asked myself whether Got7 could be trusted to run large farm equipment without catching something on fire or accidentally killing someone and I decided no, probably not 😆. So we got a brief Ateez cameo instead!
> 
> Thanks for reading and having a great week!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has been following this story! I hope you enjoy this chapter. A heads up-- I likely won't be updating next Thursday as it's Thanksgiving, but you can expect a return to updating the week after. I hope everyone is staying safe and healthy <3

Friday evening brings with it a bonfire larger than Jisung has ever seen before. The scent in the air is as distinct as it is pungent to Jisung’s sensitive nose. It’s no accident the hybrids cluster upwind. They have marshmallows that melt in just the right way in his mouth and Chan managed to find them bottled sodas in actual glass bottles. Chan himself apparently doesn’t drink soda, and Jisung hesitates to take one when the host is passing, but Felix shoves on in his hand regardless.

No one is more surprised than Jisung when it seems Jeongin’s preferred lap for the evening is the cat hybrid’s. Changbin scowls at him and Jisung shoots him back the cheekiest smile he can. The other humans are one thing, but Changbin is the easiest to tease. He’s short and grouchy more often than not, but he will absolutely bust out cute faces to get what he wants and he’s downright possessive when it comes to cuddles. Jisung gets along with him swimmingly.

Seungmin is still a bit of an enigma, but that’s more of a result of his demanding schedule as a student than any off-putting characteristics. He smiles at Jisung easily and, despite the intentional seriousness he approaches most of his work with, he’s kind and does most of the cooking. He puts out nothing but maturity, but Jisung can see the extra eye Chan keeps on him. Seungmin seems to spend most of his free time dodging Changbin’s needy arms, but he’s indulgent when it comes to Felix. Who isn’t though?

For all his never-ending patience and kindness, Jisung still feels jitters whenever he’s alone with Chan. He doesn’t know how to act or what to say. Chan always waves off his apologies and thank you’s, but Jisung isn’t sure what else to offer. Chan isn’t his family. The line between friend and submissive is one Jisung hasn’t managed to dig out yet.

Minho is the person he’s spoken to the least over the course of the week, but there’s a part of him that already loves the human just for the happiness he inspires in Hyunjin. Besides, it’s hard to feel too intimidated after Hyunjin spent a whole afternoon spilling the tea on every embarrassing story he could recall.

So he doesn’t feel too awkward when Changbin and Seungmin retire with excuses of early work shifts and homework, followed by Chan and Felix. Jisung can practically smell their affection for each other in the air.

Ew.

Jeongin is asleep by the fire, orange coat even brighter in the light of the flames. His chin and snout are pillowed on the fluff of his tail and his black-socked paws are buried under him. It’s a rather cat-like posture. Jisung had barely managed to hold back his jealousy when he’d first touched the fox’s tail. It was just as soft as Jisung’s own, but with substantially more fluff depth that you could completely bury your hand in. In human form, Jisung’s tail is longer, but relative to Jeongin’s body, the fox’s tail wins, being nearly as long as his body. What Jisung wouldn’t give to bury his face in it. Jeongin usually had a woodsy smell to him too, like the smell right after a dry summer storm, and Jisung found it to be deeply calming to both his fidgety body and his anxious mind.

It’s just him, Hyunjin, and Minho left (conscious). Jisung doesn’t mind the circumstances in the slightest.

They’re both rudely gorgeous, made even more so by the way the flames lick around their sharp facial features and bathe them in a halo glow against the darkness around them. It’s Minho who first puts out truth or dare as a suggestion and it takes less than twenty minutes for Jisung to realize there’s nothing but pure sadism behind the idea.

He’s already failed at three separate handstands, told the story of the time his trunks came off while swimming, and admitted to crying to a handful of romcom movies. And they’ve only just begun.

“Truth or dare, Jinnie?” said sadist asks. His smile is wicked and his eyes flicker in the glow. Jisung barely restrains himself from going in search of holy water.

“Dare. And make it a dance one!”

Minho frowns. “You can’t dictate the terms of your own dare. You can’t do that, tell him, Ji.”

“I wasn’t dictating,” Hyunjin whines before Jisung has a chance to respond. “I was making a friendly request. Friendly requests are allowed, aren’t they, Ji?”

“Uh.” Words always seem to get jammed in his mouth whenever they both look at him. “S-sure. Whatever you want.”

It isn’t long into Hyunjin’s dance – an interpretive representation of Changbin when he doesn’t get enough sleep – that Minho clamors to his feet, adding his own take and critiquing Hyunjin for looking too pleased with himself. That’s how Jisung discovers that he’s in the company of dancers. Self-taught, but no less talented for it.

What has he done in life to deserve this, he wonders as he watches them prance around obnoxiously. Two perfect, beautiful goofs.

“You decide, Sungie, who was better?” They shove each other out of the way, chests heaving with exertion as they come to a stop before him. When he’s not being bowled over by butterflies in his stomach, it’s not hard to imagine they’ve been friends forever. His chest feels lighter than it has in days.

He hums thoughtfully, throwing out his hands in various gestures like he’s assessing them through a lens. He walks a few loops around them before coming to a stop and steepling his fingers. “Very profound performances from both candidates. However, I think you’ve become spoiled by your bedroom upstairs. As someone who has shared a bedroom with the muse, I can tell you that there is far more swearing and snarling than was present in either performance.” He pauses, enjoying this chance to stare uninhibited at them. “However, you,” he jabs an accusing finger at Hyunjin, “are a freakish beanpole. Far too tall. I simply can’t abide historical inaccuracy like that, so Minho-ssi, I declare you the winner.”

“In your face!” Minho shouts immediately.

It’s too easy to exist with them. It feels just like being back home and messing around with his family.

Except the way his stomach cramps and his mouth pools with spit whenever one of them smiles at him.

His judgement eventually leads to a tickle fight, with Hyunjin pinning him down, all the elegance and majesty Jisung had admired earlier gone. He straddles Jisung’s hips and goes in mercilessly, ignoring Jisung’s protests. Jisung’s not a graceful tickle-receiver, arms and legs flailing while he weeps and screeches between heaving gasps. His tail thrashes along the grass, whipping like an infuriated snake.

Involuntarily, Jisung’s knee smashes up, catching Hyunjin in the groin and ending things pretty quickly. With a groan, hands fluttering around the fly of his jeans, Hyunjin slides sideways onto the grass.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” His hands dance around Hyunjin’s stomach, unsure how to help. Minho cackles in the background. “Should I get ice?” he asks, though neither one is listening to him. He wrings his hands, fingers protesting as he twists and tugs at them. Do owl-hybrids have the same heightened sense of smell cat and dog-hybrids do? If they do, Hyunjin is surely being assaulted by the sour guilt that’s pouring off Jisung in waves.

“Jisung, it’s…it’s fine,” Hyunjin wheezes. He gives a crooked smile and takes Jisung’s offered hand, dragging himself to a sitting position. “It’s hardly the first dick shot I’ve ever taken.”

Minho snorts.

Jisung can’t find any humor in the situation, eyes zeroing in on something in the grass as he brushes the back of Hyunjin’s shirt clean. Even in the shadow Hyunjin casts in the fire’s light, it’s glaringly blatant. The feather is about the length of Jisung’s palm, fully formed and snowy white with three uneven blotches of black along one edge, as though someone with inky fingers picked it up. It’s beautiful and a few seconds ago, Jisung is sure it had a home in Hyunjin’s hair.

“Oh, Hyunjin, I’m so sorry” he moans. He scoops the feather up with both hands, like one might a dead bird, and pulls back slowly to present it to the owl-hybrid. He knows Hyunjin takes great pride in his appearance, constantly plucking at his hair whenever he passes a reflective surface. Jisung would too if he looked like a god taking a casual stroll amongst the humans.

And now Jisung has cost him one of the precious few feathers. How stupid could he be? It was an accident, he’s sure they’ll see that, but the thought of causing even a passing sadness in Hyunjin, in ruining one of the small things he takes pride in…His guilt is so strong now he wouldn’t be surprised if Minho’s weak human nose could smell it.

“I’m so sorry,” he repeats, mind already spinning off the rails. Should he leave the farm? Should he hide his face and never see them again? Should he throw himself to the ground and beg forgiveness? His ears press flatter to his head than ever before and his tail sneaks around, burrowing up and under his shirt. He knows Hyunjin would never be so cruel as to pull the precious limb, but it’s an evolutionary instinct. The soft warmth is comforting along his belly.

Besides, if Hyunjin is upset, it’s not Hyunjin Jisung needs to be worried about. His back goes stiff, but he resists the temptation to look over at Minho. If he’s about to have his lights punched out, better he not know it’s coming. Maybe not looking will keep his facial features safe from damage.

“Oh!” Hyunjin says, voice entirely unbothered. He seems almost surprised, plucking the feather out of Jisung’s reverent care like one might pick up a pen. “It’s just a feather, no big deal.” He runs a finger along the edge, watching as the delicate barbs spring back into place in its wake.

Jisung sinks back on his heels, unsure how to handle Hyunjin’s easy smile. He glances over at Minho, but his face is unreadable as he watches the two hybrids. He looks not unlike a man confronted with a difficult calculus problem.

“But…” He gestures as Hyunjin’s hair.

“It’s just a feather, Sungie. Another one will grow. They fall out all the time.” He drops the feather into Jisung’s hands. The downy fluff along the bottom of the shaft tickles along his palm. It’s similar to the smattering of tiny white feathers that encircle Hyunjin’s wrists. What Jisung wouldn’t give to hold the owl-hybrid’s hand and feel the down brushing up against his own wrist. “Keep it if you want. Really don’t worry.” Hyunjin pats Jisung’s shoulder before climbing to his feet. “It should probably be bed time anyway. I can practically feel Chan-hyung glaring out the window at us, refusing to sleep until we’ll all tucked in like good kiddos.”

Minho pulls Jisung to his feet, brushing off the back of his shirt much like Jisung did for Hyunjin. He feels slow, like his mind is wading through a thick swamp to catch up with the present moment. Hyunjin isn’t mad or upset. Minho isn’t mad or upset. Everything is…fine?

They put out the fire with a ritualistic slew of safety measures Jisung suspects originates from Chan, before turning in for the night. Jisung is still holding the feather between his numb fingers as they come to the second story landing. Hyunjin and Minho stop on their way up to the third floor.

Hyunjin smiles and Jisung’s stomach does a somersault. “I had a really good time tonight,” he says. He tucks Jisung’s hand, the one holding the feather, close to Jisung’s chest and presses a quick kiss to his cheek.

“Good night, Ji,” Minho says, offering a small smile. Jisung finds Minho’s beauty to be less immediate than Hyunjin’s, but no less arresting. It catches him off guard, how pretty the other looks when his face eases up, when his smile comes out. There’s something eye-catching in the usual mischief or irritation that Minho keeps on, but there’s something positively stunning about him when he’s relaxed and happy.

Jisung is…fond.

“Night,” Jisung offers, voice weak. He gives an awkward wave as the two disappear upstairs. Because that’s where they sleep. Together. As a couple. And Jisung is just a friend, barely more than a passing guest even.

Right.

His chest feels hollow as he drops into bed, careful not to disturb the fox curled up at the foot. Changbin is snoring loudly across the room. He takes a few deep breathes to make sure he doesn’t cry. It’s inexplicable and frustratingly sudden. Didn’t he have a good time tonight? Didn’t he want to make good friends? How could he possibly be bothered by a loving relationship that existed long before he came into the picture?

He wants his family. He holds his tail, pressing the long black fur up against his cheek.

It absorbs tears well.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all, a few brief notes about this chapter:  
> 1) Jisung makes several incorrect assumptions about the intentions of Minho and the rest of the band, but please know we're not heading in any direction like that. He's still a little entrenched in traditional/heteronormative ideas. Bear with him.  
> 2) Trigger warnings - very brief/slight, but there are implications (mentioned) of sexual harassment/assault as well as the beginnings of a panic attack.  
> 3) To be honest, this chapter (esp the first half) isn't great from a technical perspective, but I'm sick and struggling with final papers this week and next, so I gave up trying to edit it. I hope it's still enjoyable. On that note, I don't know if the next chapter will come next week or the week after. It is written, so it's just a matter of whether I can get myself together to edit because I always want to show you guys the best! Please stay tuned!

The following week is lonely.

Chan’s really busy at work, or at least that’s what Felix tells him. He’s got deadlines coming up and big projects that carry a lot of weight. Jisung’s not even entirely sure what Chan does exactly, though he always has notepads with errant papers sticking out every which way and the glow of the light in the living room late into the night tells him that Chan’s particular brand of genius seems to come at the expense of a good night’s sleep.

It occupies Felix more often than Jisung would like. When Chan is home, Felix is by his side, often with a plate of food and a glass of water. Whenever Felix is able he drags Chan to the nearest soft surface, curling up with him to nap. When Chan isn’t home, Felix often accompanies him, a bright orange collar around his neck as his whip-thin tail beats against the back of his legs in excitement.

Felix is kind and Chan deserves someone to take care of him. But Jisung can’t help the small chasm of disappointment that widens in his chest whenever the two disappear together day after day, leaving Jisung alone.

Hyunjin is equally as evasive, but he offers far less explanation than Felix. Jisung always finds him doing nothing of urgency, sometimes he’s dancing in the back yard or working on whatever craft has caught his attention—lately it’s been making beaded jewelry, small snippets of string and beads of all colors and sizes spread across the kitchen table until Seungmin gets home from class and demands they be cleaned up—but as soon as Jisung approaches, Hyunjin is seemingly filled with a plethora of demands on his time. He always rushes off with a quick smile, abandoning his craft half-finished or his dance mid-stride.

“Feel free to make something yourself!” He says, smile overly large and bright as he flees up the stairs. Jisung doesn’t have the heart to follow him, burdened by an awareness that he’d find nothing but Hyunjin, unoccupied and alone.

It stings. He thought they were friends, more so than the humans in the house even. But clearly Jisung had overstepped at some point. Things had seemed to go so well during the bonfire, but somewhere between then and now Jisung has apparently caught the plague, if Hyunjin’s reaction is anything to go by. Maybe it’s Minho. Maybe Hyunjin is worried that Jisung is trying to come between them.

Minho, however, has the exact opposite concern. Gone are the days of his suspicious side eyes. As soon as he returns home from the dance studio where he works, he finds Jisung. At first, Jisung was thrilled to have someone eager to talk to him. But, coupled with Hyunjin’s weird behavior, he can’t help but worry that maybe Minho _is_ trying to bring Jisung in to replace the owl hybrid. There’s never anything mean or sketchy in the way Minho approaches him. He’s friendly, eager to chat and fill Jisung’s overabundance of time. Sometimes he suggests movies to watch or songs to listen to. There’s no small amount of flirting either, but Changbin had laughed when Jisung had tentatively offered his concerns one night when they both lay awake in their shared room.

“He’s just like that. He’d never do anything to hurt Hyunjinnie. Don’t look into it and feel free to smack his smartass if you ever need to. He’d never intentionally make you uncomfortable.”

Jisung _isn’t_ uncomfortable though. And that’s part of the problem. The same feelings he’d felt at the bonfire are still going strong. It’s easy to be in Minho’s company and his smiles and sparkles of mischief always make Jisung’s heart pound. His bad puns and cheesy pickup lines make his stomach flutter.

Jisung would never want to hurt Hyunjin either, so, no matter how innocent Minho’s intentions supposedly are, he goes out of his way to avoid the human. It’s better that way.

It leaves him brutally lonely though. With Felix occupied and Hyunjin and Minho off the table, he spends most of his days alone, waiting for the humans to get back from whatever tasks and commitments drag them from the house each day. He sees the people who must be Hongjoong and his little pack of farmers arrive at various times of day to work the vegetable fields across the road, but Jisung never dares say anything to them. Seungmin is happy to have Jisung’s company while he’s cooking, but Jisung is booted out whenever it’s study time, with the younger citing his “incessant need to shift and make noise” as the reason. Changbin is grumpy and tired more often than not, but they’ve struck up a habit of talking late at night when they’re both in bed and the rest of the house is quiet. Sometimes it’s about silly things, an ugly sweater Seungmin wore or why Felix shouldn’t be allowed to use his puppy dog eyes to get second helpings of dessert, but sometimes Changbin lets his worries and stresses unfurl into the space between them. Jisung hopes the elder finds him a useful confidant.

It’s Jeongin he finds the most comfort in.

The younger still spends a vast majority of his time in animal form. Jisung doesn’t ask. Sometimes when someone moves too suddenly, chair scraping across the floor or a door slamming unexpectedly, the small fox will bolt to his feet, little rib cage heaving. It makes Jisung heart hurt to think about it. It’s one of the few things that’ll drag Chan out of his sleep-deprived fugue or get Seungmin to abandon his studies. Someone is always there, scooping the small fox into their arms and stroking his ears until he settles in. Jeongin always curls into a tiny ball, seemingly most at ease when he can become as small as possible, squeezed between someone’s thigh and the armrest or tucked into a corner with solid walls against his back. There are days when Jisung, even with his strong sense of smell can’t find the fox all day, despite never leaving the house himself.

More often than not, Jeongin joins Jisung at night on what is technically Jeongin’s bed. Sometimes he curls up next to Jisung’s head, burying his nose under Jisung’s shoulder or in the crook of his neck. Other times he nips at Jisung’s pajama shirt until Jisung shifts enough that he can curl up next to his hip, surrounded with Jisung’s fluffy tail. In the day time, Jisung buries his loneliness and homesickness under sunny smiles and eager offers to help with this or that. At night, he occasionally gives Changbin a peek into his thoughts, but after the human is asleep, he whispers his pain to Jeongin. The fox never reacts and Jisung isn’t even sure he’s always awake, but it eases the tightness in his chest just to give voice to the swirling darkness in his mind.

It’s only been two weeks and Chan has assured him he can probably go home sometime next week. Chan and Jae text occasionally, so Jisung is in the loop enough to know that the police have all but given up snooping around. Still, everyone’s playing it safe. Jae had told him as much the one time Jisung had called him. It hadn’t helped. He was at the supermarket, Jae told him, tinny voice barely audible over the weak connection and the bustling background, and he’d have to go soon to check out.

“We miss you, we love you,” Jae ended with, the beeping of a check out scanner growing louder and louder in the background.

“Yeah, me too.” They ended the call, but Jisung didn’t move, strangling the small device in his hand as he held it to his ear. They sounded well. They were going on with life, shopping and working and laughing.

The call should have been a comfort, but instead, he’d cried for a good while afterwards. It’s not that he thinks he was the lynchpin, the only thing keeping his friends going, but it still hurts to know they’re able to go on so easily while he stagnates here. It’s his own fault for not checking if it was a good time to call in advance, but Chan is always on his phone with coworkers or listening to samples and demos, so when he offered the device to Jisung, his excitement overtook him and he called right away.

He shouldn’t have called at all.

A few beads slip from his fingers, clattering on to the table. It’s not like he’s really making anything anyway. Hyunjin had abandoned his own project, being apparently overtaken with the urgent need for a shower, when Jisung walked in. Jisung feels like a child, left at the arts and craft table, while the adults— _the humans—_ are off at work, at school, being busy important people. The opportunities for hybrids are practically nonexistent, only the most menial classes and jobs, usually offered at exclusively-hybrid facilities, but even those are unavailable to Jisung, who has no official papers and no collar. Besides, he’d have to get one of the humans to drop him off and pick him up, like a six year old off to daycare. He doesn’t want to be a burden.

“You alright there, Ji?”

It’s Changbin, followed into the kitchen by Minho, both of them saddled with a few paper grocery bags.

“Yeah,” he assures, plastering a smile on. He moves to help grab the bags.

“It probably gets boring being stuck here all day,” Changbin says, offering a sympathetic smile.

“No, no, it’s totally fine,” he rushes to say, hand flapping, not wanting them to think he wasn’t grateful for their hospitality. “I have, uh…beads?” He gestures towards the table and the scattered mess of jewelry fixings on top. If Hyunjin wasn’t such a narcissist who always put H’s on his things, then Jisung probably could have passed the owl-hybrid’s work off on his own, but as is, it’s painfully evident he’s done nothing but fiddle and distribute the mess more evenly.

“Oh, hey!” Changbin says, nearly knocking a grapefruit out of Minho’s hands as he spins around to point excitedly at Jisung. “Minho’s going into the studio in a bit. Why don’t you go with him? There probably won’t be anyone there to even see you, so you could definitely borrow one of Lixie’s collars without raising any questions.”

“Uh…”

“Wow, you’re first great idea of the week, you must be proud,” Minho says, smiling sharply at Changbin. It softens when he turns to look at Jisung, ignoring Changbin’s flustered protests. “Seriously, though, that is a good idea. It’d get you out of the house and I could always use some company.”

“Oh no, hyung, I wouldn’t want to be a bother, don’t worry about it really.” It’s a good thing humans have such a poor sense of smell because Jisung’s anxiety is practically polluting the small space. Neither of them seem to notice though. Minho waves off his excuses and, barely thirty minutes later, he tugs Jisung’s hand gently to lead him to one of the cars.

Minho teaches dance to kids, he explains as he pulls out of the driveway, but sometimes the teachers enter competitions as a team or sometimes Minho spends time choreographing and recording himself to put up on the studio’s Youtube channel.

Jisung nods, barely coherent of the other’s words. He’s got a yellow collar of Felix’s around his neck. The small silver charm, which reads FELIX on one side and DALMATION on the other, rests perfectly in the hollow between his collarbones. The collar isn’t a burdensome weight and it’s no tighter than a choker necklace, a noticeable presence but hardly a nuisance. No one will look twice, Minho had assured, but Jisung feels like he’s wearing a sign over his head proclaiming him a faker.

The subtle smell of Felix is reassuring, but the car itself is a little overwhelming. There’s two or three cars between the group—Jisung never seems to see them all at once so he’s not quite sure how many there really are—but, as far as he can tell, they all switch between them pretty regularly. Seven distinct scents are woven deep into the seams of the car seats and it sends his brain on the fritz a little. If he knew them all a little better, it might be easier, but as is, he feels overwhelmed as his nose constantly tries to pick the scents up and sort them out. It’s not helping the oily anxiety that’s pooling in his stomach one bit.

The dance studio is an old brick building on the outside, but inside its new and modern looking. The walls are mainly off-white, with splashes of red in the curtains and wall art, and there’s big windows that match the light wood flooring nicely. It feels spacious and welcoming. Minho leads him through the lobby and up a set of stairs. Jisung can faintly detect the sounds of two different classes happening on the first floor, but the noise fades away as they go up to the second floor. Smaller practice rooms, Minho explains, usually for one-on-one lessons or personal practice. They pass one girl in the hall, who waves and offers a friendly bow to Jisung before disappearing into one of the other rooms.

“You’re welcome to go out and explore, or even use one of the other practice rooms if you want,” Minho offers as he hooks his music up to the sound system. “I’m just going to practice some solo stuff for a bit.”

“I’d rather stay,” he says, aiming for a smile to disguise the absolute panic that surges to mind when he imagines wandering around by himself. What if someone sees the collar and gets close enough to realize it isn’t his? What if someone just hates hybrids? What if he gets lost?

Minho offers up his phone, giving him a quick tour of the games he has. He thinks for a moment about texting Jae or one of the others, but he doesn’t know what to say. His mind is filled with worry and loneliness, neither of which he wants to commit to text on someone else’s phone. He could delete it, but it still feels too weird.

Instead he passes the time playing a game on the phone and sneaking peeks at Minho. He really is a skilled dancer, even as he moves in stops and starts, feeling his way through new choreography. He’s completely immersed, eyes not moving from his reflection for a second. There’s a fluid power in his movements, one that Jisung can’t bring himself to look away from. His mind goes back to the bonfire, before everything got weird. There was a connection there, he felt it with Minho and Hyunjin both, something equal but different as he learned the nuances of their personalities, the quirks and idiosyncrasies that made them who they were.

But they’re off limits. They’re taken and very much in love with each other. Hyunjin’s doubly off limits, being both taken and a hybrid. Hybrids aren’t meant for other hybrids, they’re meant for humans. Except for Jisung, of course. Jisung is meant for no one.

A knock comes at the door, the only warning before a shaggy head pops in. “Hey, Lee, have you—oh, sorry, I thought you were alone.”

Minho does noes nothing but blink for a few seconds, seemingly to pull himself out of his dancing daze. Jisung draws his knees in closer. The guy at the door is solidly built with a square face and narrow features. Even leaning on the door frame, half out of view as he is, Jisung feels his strength and power acutely. He smells strongly of body wash with a faint hint of nicotine underneath. It’s his eyes and the way they linger of Jisung’s curled body that makes him feel small though. He looks hungry.

“Just finishing up some new choreo. What’s up?”

“Uh…” he blinks at Jisung before finally drawing his gaze back to Minho. “Jihyun wanted to know if you could help with her class tomorrow, guess she’s going to be a bit late.” Jisung wishes he could disappear into his sweatshirt entirely as he feels those eyes flick back towards him. His ears go flat against his head.

“Yeah, no problem.”

“Cool…” The man leans back and jerks a nod towards Jisung. “Nice, man. Didn’t peg you for the type.”

“Oh, he’s not mine. He’s…a friend’s.”

The guy smiles. “I mean, no reason not to share with friends, right? Hybrids are frickin’ expensive, man, might as well get your money’s worth, you know?” With a wink and a wiggle of his hips, he adds, “Pass the love around.”

Jisung inhales so sharply, he chokes on his own spit.

“Uh, no. No. It’s not…not like that,” Minho says, frowning. “Look, I’ve really got a lot to do and not a lot of time, so…”

“Alright, yeah. No biggy,” the guy says, unbothered. With a wave, he says, “Have fun you two!” before disappearing down the hall.

The door snicks closed behind him, echoing loudly in their silence.

“Uh, sorry about that,” Minho says, rubbing at the back of his neck. “He can be kind of a douche sometimes…”

Jisung can’t breathe. It’s outdated, he realizes. The concept of one human and one hybrid, a concept so obvious to him it felt like a simple fact of the universe—it’s outdated now. Archaic. Past tradition. Of course it wouldn’t bother Minho to pursue Jisung while Hyunjin waits dutifully at home for him. Hybrids aren’t second class partners anymore. They’re things now. Objects to be passed around. Maybe the whole house was like that. Maybe that’s why so many humans and hybrids lived together with such ease. It’s not a matter of who’s whose. It’s a matter of who wants who when.

“Jisung?” Minho crouches in front of him and Jisung digs his spine into the wall, trying to create even an inch of extra space in between them. Minho rocks back on his heels a bit. “Jisung, slow down your breathing, alright? You’re working yourself up.”

But what’s he supposed to do? It’s not like he has anywhere else to stay. “I don’t—what—I don’t,” he says nonsensically. He can’t see anything but the weave of his jeans stretched across his knees a few inches away from his face.

But no one’s made a single move, other than Minho’s relatively harmless flirtations. He can’t reconcile the idea with what he’s seen, the kindness and love that seems to permeate every room of the house, floating between hybrid and humans alike. No one has pressured him. No one has threatened him.

A thumb rubs along the base of one of his ears, sending a wave of calm over him. Sleepiness invades his senses, dulling his panic immediately.

“It’s alright, you’re alright,” Minho says quietly.

Jisung almost hates it, how the sensitive spots along his ears can manipulate his emotions so easily. But he can’t bring himself to resent it when he feels what could have become a panic attack edging away.

It feels nice. There’s no denying that.

He floats for a minute. Minho is warm besides him, his hands running gently through Jisung’s hair and occasionally stroking the baby fuzz of his ears. The room melts away as he lets his eyes dip closed. It’s just warmth here, just peace and quiet.

Jisung has no idea how much time has passed when Minho nudges him, asking “Sung?” in a quiet voice. He can only hum in response, blinking the room back into focus. He sits up, popping his back as he stretches against the wall. Minho shifts back, staring at him worriedly.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Minho smiles at him and reaches out to pat Jisung’s hair down. “ _I’m_ sorry that asshole came in here. I hope you know that I would never— _we_ would never do…anything like that. Hybrids are people too, even if some idiots don’t think so.”

He’s not sure what to say to that. Should he say thank you? Instead, Jisung drags himself to his feet with the help of the wall. Minho moves around the room, shoving his things into his bag as he goes. Jisung nibbles on his lip. Did Minho actually get everything he was supposed to get done, done? Did Jisung interrupt? Waste his time?

“To be honest, though,” Minho says as he flicks off the sound system. “I have been wanting to talk with you. Hyunjin and me both actually.”

Jisung stumbles as he steps into the hallway. Minho doesn’t notice, pulling the door closed behind them and locking it.

“Talk to me?” he squeaks. It feels like whiplash. His ears feel cold as they press back against his head. “Talk to me about what?”

“About you,” Minho says as they move down the hall. “About us. Hyunjin and I were talking and—”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” he says, not even sure what he’s objecting to. It doesn’t matter if Minho and Hyunjin talked about it. It doesn’t matter if the pope himself blessed it. Jisung won’t be a side toy for Minho. He won’t disrespect Hyunjin like that even if the owl hybrid doesn’t see it that way. He won’t interrupt a perfectly good relationship he has no business sticking his nose in.

“Hear me out,” Minho says, voice still light as Jisung trails after him down the stairs. “We were thinking maybe—”

“I’m not interested,” Jisung says, coming to a full stop a few steps above Minho. The older turns to stare up at him, his small mouth hanging open slightly. Moment of truth, Jisung thinks. He’s made his stance clear. Was all that talk about hybrid rights, about not crossing his boundaries, was it only that, talk?

“Oh…” Minho says, clearly thrown off guard. “Are…are you sure?” He crosses his arms, making his narrow frame look even tinier.

“Yes,” Jisung says. No hesitation. No waver. He resists the urge to fidget or shuffled against the wall. He feels so out of place, standing in the middle of the stairs, standing above a human like this.

He doesn’t feel powerful, though. Not when Minho looks so…crushed. They stand in silence for a moment, but Minho does nothing to push the issue. He stares sadly up at Jisung before finally nodding.

“Alright. I understand.” He swallows and pulls his back higher on his shoulder. “Are you ready to go, then? It’s getting late.” His eyes dance around Jisung, stopping on his zipper, his earrings, his knees. Anywhere but his eyes.

Jisung lets out a tiny breath. It hurts to see Minho so sad because of him, but at the same time, he feels good, having laid out his convictions and stood by them. No more misunderstandings. No more dancing around the subject.

He nods, trotting down the steps. Minho doesn’t move at first, so Jisung goes around him, not pausing as he makes his way towards the first floor exit. Minho only takes a second or two to follow after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all very much for reading <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeongin has solutions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends! With this chapter, we're moving towards the beginning of the end! I think there will be 2 more chapters and (potentially) an epilogue. My goal is to continue updating on Thursdays, but as my college semester ends, my schedule is going to go totally wonky, so no promises. I'm hoping to have this finished by the end of December though. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has read so far, left kudos and comments! Thank you also for all your well wishes last chapter :D 
> 
> Also, this is the chapter that mentions past abuse. It's very brief/vague, but you could certainly skip it if you wanted. It starts when Jeongin gets on the rock and ends with the *. Stay safe :)
> 
> P.S. idk if anyone knows the band LUCY, but if you don't, you should definitely give them a listen! I listened to their new song Snooze over and over while editing this. Their sound is so unique and fun!

The next morning is overcast, great tumbles of grey looming over them and disorienting Jisung when he wakes up. What time is it? What month?

He didn’t say much of anything to anyone when he and Minho had returned the previous night. He brushed off Chan’s concerns at dinner, offering half-assed excuses of headaches and sleepiness. He hates the idea of burdening Chan, or anyone, when they all work so hard already. Minho was similarly quiet as Hyunjin looked between the two, trying to puzzle out what had happened. Occasionally he leaned over, whispering something to Minho, but the elder only offered grunts or hums as responses.

He stays in bed through the chaos of the morning, pretending to be asleep when Changbin asks him if he wants breakfast. He listens to the hustle and bustle below as everyone gets ready for their day, shouting out concerns of misplaced keys and questions about who’ll be home when. It’s soothing in a way. It’s the same chaos that he’s used to at home. The world is still turning.

He didn’t do anything wrong. He doesn’t owe anyone anything. He has a right to say no.

He tells himself these things over and over, unsure where his sense of victory has gone. Shouldn’t he be proud at having stood up for himself? Instead all he feels is empty, as though he passed by something brilliant and realized it too late to turn back.

The better part of the morning passes this way, with his body sinking deeper and deeper into the mattress while his mind spins itself out trying to decide what the painful lump in his throat is exactly. He works himself up more than once, deciding he needs to run away immediately, only to remind himself he has nowhere to go yet. He could go home. He could do it. Jae and the others, he knows they’d do anything to keep him safe, but how can he put that burden on them? He shouldn’t have stayed with them so long anyway. It was foolish to think that the six of them would stay like that forever.

He’s not prepared when a pillow flies across the room and hits him hard enough to nearly send him off the bed.

All the humans are gone, Felix accompanying Chan to his studio, and Hyunjin hasn’t spoken to him in days, so that only leaves…

“Jeongin?”

He’s only seen the fox hybrid in human form a few times in passing. He’s tall, a little on the gangly side, with fire truck red hair and a sharp smile. He’s also, thankfully, clothed even though he seems to have no conniptions about walking around naked while he goes to and from the shower.

“Get up, hyung, we’re going on a walk,” he says, matter-of-fact.

“We are?”

Jeongin nods. What else is there to do in the face of such certitude, but get up and begin to dress? He tugs on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, both from the floor with mixed enough scents that Jisung has no idea who they belong to.

Jeongin leads him out the back door and past the back fields, waving to one of Hongjoon’s boys as they go. The boy waves back from within rows of leafy green stalks. Jisung has no idea what he’s growing, but it looks nice and green.

There’s a stream not too deep into the woods. Jisung can hear it from his bedroom on really clear nights. Jeongin walks right along the little bank with ease, clearly having been here enough to know where to put his feet to avoid shaky rocks or crumbling patches of dirt. Maybe this is where he goes when he disappears for hours at a time. Jisung can see why. The air is crisp, grackles and robins calling out around them. It smells like damp earth in a way that brings something instinctual out in Jisung. He wants to bury his nose in the dirt and smell how alive it all is. There were deer here not too long ago, Jisung can smell that as well. A few smaller fish twitch in the water, their scales catching the grey light now and again. If he looked closer, he bets he could find frogs or even turtles.

He follows behind Jeongin, trusting the other knows the way.

“It’s nice here,” he says when Jeongin doesn’t seem to intend to offer anything any time soon. The younger only hums in agreement. “I think I must have passed this way when I first came to you guys, but it was so dark that I don’t recognize much of it.” The panic probably didn’t help either, but he keeps that thought to himself. Jeongin hums again. Maybe there’s something sacred about this walk and Jisung is ruining it? Though he can’t imagine why the younger would bring him at all if he wanted only silence.

He keeps quiet the rest of the walk, just in case. Jeongin brings them deeper into the forest along the stream, coming to a stop at a small rock outcropping that leans over the water. It looks like Pride Rock, only a hundred times smaller. Jeongin climbs up and stretches out on his back along the length of it, arms crossed under his head and face turned to the sky. He doesn’t say anything, but when Jisung remains standing next to him, fidgeting slightly as he debates whether to join him, Jeongin rolls his head to look at him, eyebrows climbing up. It’s enough of an invitation as he’ll get.

Jisung feels too awkward to properly match his pose—spreading his elbows out like that feels like taking up too much space—but he bunches up the hood of his sweatshirt under his head and stares up. The sky is still grey, but the leaves interlace and overlap just enough that he suspects it’d be the perfect amount of shade on a sunny day. Warm and dry, but not hot. The stream babbles below them and the birds continue their call. Somewhere a wood pecker goes to town on a tree.

Jisung wonders if the others know about this spot. Something tells him no, that he’s the only one to have ever been brought here, but that could be the magic of the spot. Every trip here would feel special, every moment once in a lifetime.

“I used to belong to a very wealthy woman,” Jeongin says. If his voice wasn’t so calm, it might have startled Jisung with how abruptly he began speaking. “She was not a good person, hyung. Not a good person at all.”

Jisung says nothing, peeking at Jeongin out of the corner of his eye. The younger hasn’t moved, his sharp nose still pointed right at the sky.

“It’s not an exaggeration to say that I owe Chan my life,” the younger continues. “But it still gets overwhelming sometimes. The house. All the people, all the smells. So I come here.”

“It’s nice,” Jisung whispers. He doesn’t know what else to say. He probably doesn’t need to though. As a purebred, Jeongin’s nose is equally as strong as a true fox’s. He can probably smell the sorrow on Jisung, the pain in his heart for the younger. Hybrids aren’t treated well in the world. It’s a fact they all know.

“Sometimes I just come here and talk. To no one. Just to put my thoughts out into the world, I guess.” Breathing deeply, Jeongin finally lets his head roll to the side to make eye contact with Jisung. “You can talk too, if you want.”

It’s all he says before moving back to face the sky and letting his eyes slip closed. It’s undemanding. Just an opportunity. Jisung could say nothing and they would leave in good time, none the worse for his lack of explanations.

Jisung slips his arms out of the sleeves of his sweatshirt, tucking them inside so he can pet his tail without exposing it. If Jeongin finds it odd, he doesn’t say anything.

He keeps silent at first. The rock is warm along his back and the air fills his lungs so pleasantly, he could fall asleep if he wanted.

“I’m not sure what to do,” is what he finally settles on. It’s easy, talking to the sky, the trees, the air. There’s no judgement there. “I’m not sure what I want.”

He thinks back to the night of the bonfire. The warmth he’d felt, first as part of the group, then as part of a trio. It leaves nothing but yearning in his chest.

“I miss home. I miss my family,” he says instead. “It hasn’t been that long, not even a month, but I miss things feeling easy. I never realized how much trouble they could get in, just for having me there, in the house. But I guess you guys are all risking the same, aren’t you? Just because I’m here.” No matter where he goes, he’ll always bring the threat with him, putting anyone he’s close to in danger. That’s the condition of his existence. “It’s not really fair to go back. They can’t spend their whole lives protecting me. What if they want to get married? Move out? What then? Bring me along like some permanent third wheel? I know hybrids older than me have been bought to be mates, but only if there was a legal chain of ownership before. No one ever bought me. I’m outside of the system. I’d be one of those “hybrid facility” hybrids. That sounds awful, but I don’t know what else to do.”

Jeongin says nothing, leaving the space open for whatever Jisung wants to put into it. He takes a deep breath and tracks a dragonfly across the sky.

He pulls his tail tight to his chest, nearly strangling the poor thing in his grip. It’s selfish, but he knows what he wants. “I want to stay,” he whispers.

In his heart of hearts, he knows these are good people. They’re not running some bizarre hybrid sex house, no matter what his panicked mind had concluded yesterday. They’re just good people, trying to live their lives in peace. In barely three weeks, he’s become so fond of them he can hardly imagine life without them.

And there’s Minho and Hyunjin. He wants them so much, craves their love so deeply it hurts. But he can learn to live with that pain. What he can’t live with is the guilt of breaking them apart. He made himself clear to Minho. Maybe, with enough work, the three of them can go forward as friends?

“Then stay,” Jeongin finally says, voice calm and plain. Just like that. It sounds so simple.

*

Jeongin leads the way back as a fox, his bundle of clothes unceremoniously dumped into Jisung’s unexpecting arms. Jisung’s appetite has returned in full and the sun overhead suggests it’s well past lunch time anyway.

He feels…settled. His anxieties are still there, but at a lower frequency. His head feels clearer anyway. Maybe he can peel Felix away from Chan long enough to have a cuddle session later. It’s been a while. He wants to curl up with someone and let this contentedness spread through him. Seungmin would be a good back up. Jisung loves watching him squawk with indignation, shouting about homework and his notes and all manner of human nonsense as Jisung plops down on his lap and demands attention. He always gives in eventually, glaring at the cat hybrid while cooing over how soft his tail is. The tail always gets them.

Currently it’s bopping along behind him, twitching whenever the breeze picks up. He’ll have to spend some time grooming it when they get back as there’s undoubtedly little twigs and bits of dirt stuck in it from their romp, but honestly it’s a process Jisung enjoys. Combing over his tail meticulously is almost meditative in a way. Younghyun was always very good at it as well, never pulling or catching on snags. If he’s still feeling social later, maybe he could ask someone here to do it.

Jeongin stops so fast that Jisung almost steps on the small fox. His huge ears flatten to his head as his nose twitches. Clutching the clothes tighter to his chest, Jisung tries to see what he can smell, but his nose is nowhere near as powerful as the younger’s. He can smell dirt, freshly upturned and full of the roots of thriving vegetation. He can smell Jeongin, of course. His usual woodsy smell is bitter at the edges, tinged with a rush of adrenaline.

With a small huff, Jeongin continues forward, pace just a hint faster than before. Jisung would be lying if he said it didn’t scare him a little. Despite the trees around him, he feels exposed, like there’s something around that he can’t see but that can see him.

They make it another hundred feet or so before Jeongin stops again, hunching low to the ground, snout wrinkling just a bit as he bares the smallest hint of teeth.

“What’s wrong?” Jisung whispers, as though Jeongin could answer him in this form. He can smell it now too, though. Just barely. It’s another animal, maybe a wolf? The scent is wrong though somehow. It’s unpleasant, almost unnatural. Jisung takes a step closer to Jeongin, debating if he ought to pick up the small hybrid. Should they make a run for it? Would that trigger whatever it was to chase them?

Jisung tries to get a gauge on how far they are from the farm. It’s not any great distance, three quarters of a mile maybe, but if it really is a wolf or, god forbid, _a bear_ , they have no chance of outrunning it. The forest floor is slippery with wet leaves and soft mud and beyond that is open fields. He didn’t think to bring a phone or a weapon of any kind. Why would he?

A small growl tumbles out of Jeongin, startling Jisung. Isn’t growling a sign of not backing down? Maybe Jisung should pick him up and make a run for it.

The returning growl freezes him though. It’s deeper. Louder.

To his great relief what steps out of some brush is not a wolf, but that doesn’t mean he’s in anyway excited to see the coyote. It’s sandy fur is pulled tight over its emaciated form, ribs shifting visibly with every breath. The fur around the snout is discolored and it’s worn thin in patches along the legs. That’s the smell, he realizes. Starvation. Desperation.

Still growling, Jeongin shifts closer to Jisung, his bushy tail brushing against his ankles.

“Turn back to a human,” Jisung says, keeping his voice low and calm. The coyote is clearly in a weakened state. As two humans, they could probably beat it back well enough. But coyotes and foxes don’t mix, even Jisung knows that. They’re the sworn enemies of the woods or something like that.

Jeongin doesn’t shift. He settles in lower, snapping his jaws in warning. Why is he escalating? Jisung's fear is undoubtedly detectable in the air to both canine noses. Maybe it’s setting Jeongin off. It’s certainly making him look weak to the coyote that’s for sure. Jisung's tail curls around his waist and up under his shirt. It should be flicking in irritation, but he’s not an aggressive cat. He’s a curl up and hug his own tail cat.

“Innie, why don’t we—”

He doesn’t get to make a suggestion. The coyote leaps forward, jaws flying wide as it releases a snarl that seems to overtake Jisung’s senses entirely. It feels far louder than it could ever be, realistically. It floods his mind, sending his thoughts and his feet scrambling. Jisung stumbles back, trying to avoid sending Jeongin flying from a panicked kick and barely dodges a bite that likely would have broken his wrist.

With a hissy sort of screech, Jeongin goes under, weaving between the coyote’s long legs and burying his teeth in its hind leg. He doesn’t let go right away, nearly yanking the animal of its feet with the force of his tugging.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” Jisung finds himself chanting. His heart is in his throat and everything is moving far too fast for him to respond to. What’s around him? What can he fight back with? He scoops up a stick about as long as his forearm, only a few inches across, just as the coyote yanks its leg out of Jeongin’s bite and sends his small body flying with a well-aimed kick. Jisung can’t help but shout, uselessly throwing his hands out as the fox flies like a football away from him. The coyote is on Jeongin the second he lands, but Jisung is right behind them. Stick in hand, he bashes at the creatures back. It doesn’t seem to do a lot of damage, but the jaws fly around to bite at the stick leaving Jeongin enough space to wiggle out from underneath the larger canine. Ducking low, the coyote tries to go at his ankles and there’s enough pain to say it succeeded at least once, but Jisung gets in a good hit, smashing his stick across the side of the coyote’s head. It careens sideways, blood streaming from its jaw and nose.

Jisung wastes no time. Dropping his now broken stick, he snatches Jeongin up and sprints as fast as he can. The younger is squirming in his hold, protesting the tight, uncomfortable grip, but Jisung doesn’t let up in the slightest. He can see the house now. Humans aren’t food for coyotes; he doubts it would expend the energy to really chase them down now. His run is uneven, the sting in his ankle growing fiercer by the minute, but he doesn’t slow down.

“Hey! Hey!” he shouts, unable to think of anything else as he plows towards the back door. He tears by the same barn he’d tried to hide in just a few weeks ago and aims for the screen door he’d been dragged through that same night. He doesn’t know who’s home. He doesn’t care. He just needs someone to come, to take over. Someone to make sure Jeongin is okay.

If he’d gotten hurt, even a little, on Jisung’s watch…he’s out of a home for sure. Has anyone in the history of forever ever lost seven friends in one evening? Maybe it’ll be a record.

It doesn’t matter though. It doesn’t matter what they do to him so long as they can make sure Jeongin is okay and get him whatever medical help he needs.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy this longer update because I have literally no idea if the next chapter will go up next Thursday or not, given that it's Christmas Eve >.<
> 
> P.S. Some of the medical details are a little convenient (because really they should all go to the hospital) for the sake of the plot. We're all just going to roll with it and say thank you Seungmin because he's the real MVP here. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone for reading and leaving kudos and comments. It means so much to me!

Felix and Chan come flying into the kitchen from upstairs just as Jisung bursts in the backdoor. “Help, help,” he babbles over and over again as they swarm into each other.

“Call Seungmin, get home him now,” Chan orders, Felix disappearing immediately to comply. Chan clears the kitchen table with a sweep of his arm and Jisung deposits the fox there. Jeongin is still conscious, squirming left and right as Chan tries to keep him from hurting himself. There’s no obvious blood or gaping wounds. Jisung lets himself hope it’s not as bad as it seemed just a minute ago. “Stop squirming,” Chan scolds. To Jisung, he asks, “What happened?”

“I—We—there was a coyote and—and it, like, I don’t know, attacked and—“

“Seungmin’s on his way home,” Felix reports, moving into the doorway with Hyunjin on his heels. The owl hybrid pauses, hand flying to his mouth, before seemingly gathering himself.

“It doesn’t look too bad. It’d be much easier to get a look if he’d stop squirming, but I think his instincts are going a little haywire,” Chan says. He drops into the chair at the head of the table and runs a hand over Jeongin’s body, trying not to pin him down as he does so. The fox’s chest is heaving quickly, though he’s no longer actively fighting to get off the table.

Between the five of them, the room is quickly becoming polluted with the stench of fear. It’s setting Jisung on edge, making his tail flick unhappily behind him. He can’t imagine what it’s doing to Jeongin, with his more sensitive senses and adrenaline-fueled body.

“Okay, it’s okay,” Chan coos. He instructs Felix to gather supplies and soon the table is scattered with bandages, towels, and ice packs. “It’s okay. Change back when you’re ready, okay? It’s probably going to hurt a little, so take your time,” he says to the fox.

Thank goodness Chan is here. He steps up with an ease Jisung would never be capable of. With shuffles so tiny it almost doesn’t count as moving, Jisung lets himself drift away from the table. He wants to be out of the way, to leave this family to their space, but his heart hasn’t gotten the message. It aches with a desire to press in, to surround himself with them and beg for comfort.

It’s not his place to do so.

“Are you alright?” Hyunjin’s voice is quiet, but Jisung flinches nonetheless. He glances over, surprised at how close Hyunjin is. They’ve barely exchanged five words in the last week, but here he is, barely a foot away. He still looks breathtakingly beautiful, even with his eyebrows pinched in concern.

Jisung can do nothing but nod. The last vestiges of his adrenaline seemed to be leaking out onto the floor, leaving him feeling drained and hollow, as though he hasn’t eaten in days. A strong breeze could knock him over.

This is all his fault. They were out there because of him. He should have reacted faster, done better. Apparently the threat of injury just followed him around, waiting to unleash on whoever was closest to him at any given moment. First Jae and Younghyun, and now this.

“Would you…” Hyunjin’s delicate hand floated about in the air, just barely avoiding touching him. “Tea?” he finally asks.

“Sure,” Jisung whispers. As Hyunjin moves away to make the tea, Jisung is left adrift. Felix and Chan are on the opposite side of the table, both bent low over Jeongin as they whisper reassurances. The fox seems calm, pliant even. Chan seems confident that nothing is urgent enough that they should whisk him off to a vet’s. If Chan thinks they have time to wait for Jeongin to turn back at his own pace, then maybe it’s not too bad. Jisung holds the reassurance close.

Hyunjin presses a cup into his hand, holding it patiently as Jisung startles, jerking away before he realizes the hot thing is a cup, not a threat. “Thanks,” he mumbles, burying his face in it and drowning his senses in the scent of chamomile and lemon so he doesn’t have to meet the other’s eyes.

He’s surprised no one is interrogating him on how he let this happen. Maybe they’re waiting for things to calm down? He wishes they’d just get it over with. The waiting is too much. It’s not like he expects screaming matches, but still, he’s completely crashed into their lives, taking up space and food without contributing anything, and now his inability to react quick enough has gotten their maknae injured. Even Felix, the one who’s been the nicest to him of all, will recognize that he can’t stay, not after this.

Seungmin bursts in with Changbin hot at his heels. That Jisung didn’t hear them coming is a testament to his exhaustion. The scent of their worry is brutally overpowering in the already cramped space. Jisung shuffles out of the way, pressing into the corner nearest the living room doorway, as they ask questions. Seungmin adds a few supplies to the table from his backpack, asking about Jeongin’s condition. Changbin drops to his knees and immediately cups Jeongin’s tiny face in his hands.

It only takes a few whispered words and, with a groan, there’s a fully grown, completely naked teenager sitting on the kitchen table. Chan shucks off his sweatshirt immediately, offering it to Jeongin to drape over his lap for some privacy.

Jisung stifles his gasp in his tea. There’s bruising along Jeongin's right side, splattered over his ribs and up to his shoulder blade. A handful of scratches litter along his shoulders and neck, though none look deep enough to be concerning. It’s all made worse for the dirt and sweat that’s smeared across his skin, which makes him look not unlike a child rescued from a war zone.

“It’s not that bad,” Jeongin is already saying as Changbin takes a hold of his hand and Seungmin flutters to work.

It may not be a death sentence, but Jisung sees each purple blossom as a stain of his own making. Why didn’t he react quicker? Why didn’t he get Jeongin out of there faster? He sets his cup down on the closest counter for fear he may drop it and instead pulls his tail into his hands, crushing the long hairs under his fingers. There’s dirt and leaves in it from their afternoon out, but he hardly deserves to spend some time superficially grooming while a purebred hybrid sits there flinching and hissing as Seungmin dabs about with a disinfectant soaked cotton ball.

Someone’s looking at him. Raising his eyes from floor, he finds it’s Hyunjin again, standing on the other side of the table, watching him. Making sure he doesn’t leave? Making sure he does leave? Looking for signs repentance? He has no idea. The owl hybrid opens his mouth, but both of their attention is drawn back to the table when Seungmin says, “Nothing’s broken. You’ll definitely be sore, but all of your ribs are intact and there are no indication of internal injuries, though we’ll have to keep a close eye on you for the next few days just in case.”

“I told you,” Jeongin whines, batting Seungmin’s probing fingers. “I’m fine. Just banged up, that’s all.”

Jisung doesn’t wait around to hear Jeongin point the finger at him. He slips around the edge of the doorway and makes his way through the living room. The pain in his ankle is dull now, making his steps just the slightest bit uneven. His stomach protests as he drops heavily into the grass in the front yard. He’d almost forgotten he hadn’t eaten yet. It’s well into the middle of the afternoon now, but the cramping emptiness in his stomach is a welcome distraction. There’s a thread of satisfaction in the pain, which serves as a fitting punishment.

What he’s doing, what he’s waiting for, he’s not sure. Sitting cross-legged, he digs his fingers into the dirt on either side of his knees and tears up little pieces of grass. It smells much better out here, without the heavy cloud of fear and pain. He can breathe out here.

His conversation with Jeongin comes to mind as he stares up at the sky. It’s the same sky he was looking at just an hour or two ago, but it feels like several years have passed since then. It had seemed so easy out there in the woods, tucked away from the house and the constant reminders that Jisung doesn’t belong. _I want to stay_.

He does. It’s not that he doesn’t have friends. It’s not that going back to Jae and Younghyun and the others wouldn’t be enough in life. To have people that care so deeply about him like that—he was already miles ahead of what many hybrids could even dream of. It’s just that, these people have wormed their way into his heart too. The quirky family they’ve crafted out of a handful of misfits, the way they orbit around each other and fit together…Jisung could see himself living here forever. Somehow, he feels like there’s a spot for him, like they’ve always been waiting for him.

He’s spoiled it now. In the clear air, he can acknowledge it’s unlikely they’ll _make_ him leave. They certainly wouldn’t force him to leave unless they were sure he had a safe place to go. But it doesn’t feel fair. All he’s done since arriving is muck things up, particularly between Minho and Hyunjin. He just appeared on their doorstep one day and forced himself in. What right does he have to ask to stay? At the end of the day, they’re little more than strangers.

He hears the car approaching far before he sees it. He remains where he is as Minho pulls into the driveway.

“Jisung?” he calls hesitantly as he steps out, tugging his bag with him. He must have been at the dance studio, showered there too if the damp crown of hair sticking to his forehead is anything to go by. “What…is everything okay?”

“Jeongin got hurt, but Seungmin says it’s not too bad,” Jisung says, settling his gaze on the middle of Minho’s band t-shirt so he doesn’t have to meet his eyes. Minho’s head whips around to stare at the house, like if he looks hard enough he can assess the situation through the walls. He takes a few steps, aborting the movement before he makes it all the way up the stairs.

“But…what are you doing out here? Are you okay?”

“You should go inside.” Because Jisung doesn’t want to fess up. He doesn’t want that concerned look on Minho’s face to turn to disgust or hate.

What he wants, he decides as the sun shifts from behind a cloud and layers his skin in pleasant warmth, is a nap. A long, long nap. And to wake up in a different world, one where he’s back home and he’d never brought such chaos into this household.

“Why don’t you come with me?” Minho offers, vaguely holding out a hand as though Jisung can reach it from ten feet across the yard.

“It’s better if I stay out here.” Minho is starting to smell strongly of worry. Jisung wishes he would just go inside and confirm for himself that Jeongin is okay so that he stops smelling so much. It’s setting Jisung back on edge. He can’t not react when a friend smells like that. It sets off all sorts of alarm bells for his feline instincts. 

Minho hesitates for a moment, before finally disappearing up the steps and through the door. Jisung isn’t alone for more than five minutes before a different smell reaches his senses.

“Jisungie?” Felix asks softly.

“It was my fault,” Jisung says, just in case there’s any doubt. Better to clear that up first. “We were out there because of me and Jeongin got hurt because I didn’t react quickly enough.”

He can hear Felix take a few hesitant steps on the porch before moving forward with resolution. “That’s…almost the exact opposite of Innie said.”

Jisung isn’t surprised the younger would take the blame, but it feels dishonest all the same. Jisung should have dealt with his problems by himself.

“Somehow I’m more inclined to believe Innie,” Felix huffs, dropping down next to Jisung heedless of the dirt. “It doesn’t really matter though, he’ll be fine. No harm done. Sounds like it was just an accident of chance, really.” Jisung can only hum as Felix pulls Jisung’s arm to his chest so he can burrow right up against him, head resting on Jisung’s shoulder. His presence is warm and his smell familiar.

He can’t help it. Even if he shouldn’t let himself get closer, even if he should run a thousand miles away—for all the things he should do, all he wants to do is bury himself in Felix’s warmth. So he does, rubbing his cheek over Felix’s head and letting the soft velvet of Felix’s ears brush over his chin. Felix gathers him impossibly closer and strokes the tiny baby hairs at Jisung’s nape. It’s nice. Jisung would happily stay here in the dirt with Felix for the rest of his life.

“You smell so sad,” Felix says, like it’s the most heartbreaking thing he’s ever realized.

It’s not a surprise, not when his insides are such a tangle. “I’m sorry,” Jisung offers. For what, he’s not sure.

Felix sighs, sending a little puff of hot air along Jisung’s neck. “ _I’m_ sorry,” he echoes. “I’ve been so caught up with Chan and—”

“No, no!” Jisung pulls back to stare at Felix. He’s affronted Felix would even suggest that Jisung ought to have taken priority over Chan. “That’s okay. That’s how it should be.”

Felix pouts at him, eyes huge and spotted ears drooping. “Maybe, if I could trust the rest of these idiots to get it together and look out for you, but apparently I can’t.” Felix scoots until they’re facing each other straight on, knees crossed like they’re about to exchange some juicy gossip at a sleepover. Felix’s thin tail twitches slightly in the grass, betraying his uncertainty. “But, for real, what’s up with you and Minho and Hyunjin? I thought you were all getting along well?”

Jisung drops his gaze. In his lap, he plucks at the stray dirt in his tail for something to occupy his fingers.

“I don’t want to come between them,” he admits. It’s the closest to the truth he can acknowledge.

Felix snorts. “I don’t think you could if you tried. They have their problems, sure, but they’re pretty solid.”

Jisung shakes his head, still refusing to look up. “Minho asked me…” He’s not even sure what Minho was asking for. That’s the problem. He has no idea what Minho wants. Or what Hyungjin wants for that matter. Everything is unclear and it’s making it unfairly difficult to just be friends and enjoy each other’s company.

“What did he ask you?” There’s curiosity on Felix’s face, but somehow not worry. He’s confident it’s some sort of misunderstanding, then. He doesn’t understand the snarl that overtakes Jisung’s mind when he tries to parse out the others' intentions.

He thinks back to the stairwell, when he made his stand. His emotions were overwhelmed and his almost panic attack had left him feeling shaky and desperate for certainty. What Minho actually said was—

“He said he and Hyunjin wanted to talk to me,” Jisung says quietly. He wanted to talk sounds so innocuous. It doesn’t do justice to the turmoil Jisung has begun to feel whenever he sees the other two.

Felix’s small hand comes to rest on his, startling him into making eye contact. “Don’t you think having a conversation might be a good idea?”

“I…I don’t have anything to say.”

“I know that’s not true,” Felix counters immediately, squeezing his hand. “You have questions. And feelings. And wants. You’re just not saying them because you’re worried about overstepping or whatever.” Felix moves to scoop both of Jisung’s hands into his, where he gives them a little shake. "In this household, everyone is equal. Human, hybrid. It doesn’t matter. You’re allowed to speak your mind. You have to, if you want the others to understand your perspective.”

Jisung swallows. There’s so much risk though. It’s not just his life he might mess up. “It’s better if I don’t…”

“No,” Felix insists, shaking his hands again, “it’s _easier_ if you don’t. It’s not better, not for you and certainly not for Minho and Hyunjin. Or the rest of us who have to watch the three of you go around all miserable.”

There’s nothing he can say to that. He lets his eyes drift, taking in the little dalmation spots, just one shade too dark for freckles, that are splattered across Felix’s face. Truly, he has a kind face, the sort that makes you feel safe and trusting. There’s intelligence there too, in his eyes, and undoubtedly the same insecurities and worries that Jisung himself feels. No one is above feeling doubtful or lonely, no matter who or where they are.

“I’m scared,” Jisung finally whispers, looking at Felix’s lips as he does so. He can’t quite make eye contact. “I don’t…understand.”

“Oh, baby, that’s okay,” Felix says immediately. He reaches a hand out to run through Jisung’s hair, letting his fingers rub briefly at the base of Jisung’s cat ears. “That’s okay.”

There’s a lady bug crawling on Felix’s shoulder. Jisung reaches out and scoops it up, letting it crawl on his finger for a minute before depositing it in the grass.

“I guess we have to go back inside,” he says glumly. He gets it. Felix is making way more sense than Jisung’s own thoughts have been for days. That doesn’t make it any easier. He doesn’t want to face Minho and Hyunjin. He doesn’t want to face Chan or Changbin either, knowing how protective they can be over Jeongin.

Felix chuckles quietly. “It’s better to get it over with. Besides, as soon as everyone has calmed down a bit, Innie is going to milk this for all it’s worth, so be prepared to be ordered around for days.”

Letting go of Jisung’s hands, Felix climbs to his feet and brushes off his pants. His tail is wagging lazily behind him.

Jisung had almost forgotten the pain in his ankle. It had simmered down to a mild ache while he was sitting. As soon as he stands though, he takes one step and nearly careens to the ground with a shout of pain.

Felix barely manages to catch him, crying out in surprise and concern.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Jisung is saying before he’s even righted himself. The cuff of his pants on his injured side is torn in a few separate places and the torn edges are covered in blood and dirt. There’s a corresponding stain on the knee of his other jeans from when he’d been sitting cross-legged.

Oh, he thinks dumbly. He hadn’t realized it was bleeding.

“Oh my gosh! Why didn’t you say something?” Felix cries. “This whole time I’m just rambling on and you’re bleeding to death in the front yard!”

“It’s not that bad—”

“Here, get on my back,” Felix insists, turning and crouching. Jisung sees little option other than to comply. If he’s being honest, he was dreading getting up the few steps of the porch. He’s not dying, but that doesn’t mean it feels good.

“Chan!” Felix hollers as he runs awkwardly towards the house. His tail flails around behind him, occasionally whacking Jisung’s butt and thighs as it works to counterbalance Felix’s movements. “Chan!”

Chan appears before them just as they pass through the front door. Several heads peek out from the kitchen behind him.

“What on earth—what’s wrong?” Chan asks, hands fluttering around as though he can grab the danger out of the air.

“The coyote bit Jisung!” Felix wails. “And he’s just been bleeding this whole time!”

“It’s not that bad,” Jisung says quickly as several people gasp.

“Come in, come in,” Chan urges, guiding them towards the kitchen where Felix deposits him in a chair. Jeongin and Changbin are both gone, likely to the shower he can hear running upstairs.

“You’re hurt?” Hyunjin asks, voice soft and wounded. He presses his hands to his chest and stares at Jisung as though he’s just announced a cancer diagnosis. By his side, Minho looks almost betrayed.

“It’s not that bad,” he repeats for what feels like the hundredth time. “Just a…a bite or something.” He’s not actually sure what happened. It feels mighty sore. Had he somehow rolled it as well?

“And you were just going to ignore it?” Seungmin demands, plopping his kit back on the table and spreading out for the second time in an hour. “What sort of idiot leaves an animal bite untreated? Haven’t you ever heard of disinfectant?”

“Seungmin…” Chan warns, but he leaves his sentence hanging.

Jisung isn’t offended, though. It was a stupid move on his part, he knows it. He was distracted by his pity party.

Seungmin props Jisung’s ankle on a chair and gently tugs his pant leg up and out of the way. There’s a handful of cuts on either side and the skin is red and swollen. It’s not pretty.

“This might sting,” Seungmin warns before spreading an antibacterial cream on with a cotton swab.

“What if the coyote gave him something?” Hyunjin says, twisting his hands together. “Like a disease or something? Shouldn’t we go to the hospital?”

“Innie said the coyote smelled like it was starving, not like it was sick. Or at least, not rabid or something like that. We’ll keep the wounds clean and see if he develops any rashes or a fever, but I think we’ll be fine with topical ointments,” Seungmin replies without breaking the stride of his work. "This is high grade stuff right here."

Jisung can’t help but jolt as someone lays their hand on his. Looking over, he finds Chan staring at him across the table, gaze unwavering. “Jeongin also said that it was his fault. He said that you tried to get them out of there and that he wouldn’t budge. Apparently his instincts got a little out of control when he thought his family was in danger.” The smile Chan gives him is lopsided, but there’s something firm in his eyes, like Jisung _has_ to understand this. “What happened today wasn’t your fault.”

“Told you,” Felix whispers, bending over the chair to hug Jisung from behind.

“It was my fault we were out there.”

Minho snorts, but Hyunjin whacks his shoulder. It’s Chan who speaks, giving Jisung’s hand a little shake. “You’re not a prisoner here. You’re allowed to leave and go wherever you want when you want.”

“You’re also allowed to ask for help,” Felix says firmly, flicking his chest lightly. “Talking to friends when you have a problem is a good thing.”

“Yes, definitely,” Chan says, but Jisung’s eyes drift over to Minho and Hyunjin. They’re pressed together, shoulder-to-shoulder, and he can see their hands twined together in the cramped space between their hips. But they’re looking back at him. Hyunjin’s eyes are big and worried while Minho levels him with the same quietly observant look he gets whenever he’s waiting to make a decision.

Jisung owes them a conversation.

He wants to stay and, by some miracle, it seems like he’s allowed to. It’s only right that he put in the work to sort out the mess he's made.

“Keep this bandage clean and dry,” Seungmin says, tapping his ankle lightly. Jisung glances back over at him, well aware of Minho and Hyunjin continuing to watch him. “It looks like you might have rolled your ankle as well, though nothing too bad. Ice it when you can, no more than twenty minutes at a time, and keep weight off of it as much as possible. If you feel sick at all, like nauseous or feverish, or if the skin around the wounds changes color at all, let me know. I think you’re in the clear though. The swelling and redness should ease up by tomorrow and be gone in a few days, especially if you ice it well.”

“Thank goodness,” Felix says, burying his nose in the crown of Jisung’s hair. The dalmation presses a small kiss there before pulling back. He shares a meaningful look with Chan before saying, “Maybe we should leave these three alone then?”

“I’m still here,” Seungmin grouses as he packs up his little kit. He wraps an ice pack in a tea towel and drapes it over Jisung’s ankle. Pulling his things into his arms, Seungmin jabs out a finger and swings it between Minho, Hyunjin, and Jisung. “I’ll be right next door in the living room. Don’t even think of moving that ankle and nothing… _strenuous._ ” He stalks out with a huff.

Chan laughs. “I’m not sure if that means fighting or making out, but maybe don’t do either? We’ll be upstairs if you need us.” Felix gives Jisung one last squeeze before taking Chan’s outstretched hand and following him out of the room, leaving the three of them alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> COMMUNICATION. WOW. A MIRACLE. 
> 
> In case I don't post next week - for anyone who celebrates, have a great holiday season. For everyone else, have a lovely end of year! Stay healthy & safe <3


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, friends! This chapter comes one day early since I didn't post last week. Initially this was going to be the last chapter and there was going to be a short epilogue to wrap a few things up, but this started to get away from me, so the next chapter will be more of a chapter than an epilogue (aka longer). I doubt anyone is super super upset :) A few notes:
> 
> 1) I recommend listening to Holo - Lee Hi and Flower (acoustic ver.) - Xia while reading this. These are two of my fav emotional k-pop songs and I listened to them on repeat while writing this. So go have a listen if you want!
> 
> 2) There are a few bits in here that felt cheesy or mushy to me, but we've had so many miscommunications on this journey, that I felt like they all deserved a lot of softness. And a lot of the things they talk about are important for their ability to go forward as a poly couple. Please forgive the extra cheesiness.
> 
> 3) I was initially using honorifics at the start of this story, but they've kind of faded out, as I debated a lot whether it was okay for me, an American writer, to use them. I'm still not sure tbh, but they've faded out of this story, so please forgive that inconsistency, as they were used in the beginning. 
> 
> Enjoy some long awaited love :)

It’s silent for a few minutes, as though there’s dust to settle from the chaos of the last hour.

“Can we, uh…sit?” Hyunjin asks, waving a hand at the table. Jisung has never heard a more bizarre question in his life.

“It’s your house,” he says, aiming for levity, but Hyunjin’s face shutters for just a moment as though Jisung dealt a physical blow. Minho moves them forward, pulling Hyunjin by their joined hands and depositing him in a chair. Minho lets his fingers trail through the downy feathers at Hyunjin’s wrist for a just a moment before pulling away and taking his own seat.

It feels like it should be a late night conversation, but it’s barely past mid-afternoon. The room is well lit with sun that streams in from the windows and lights upon little specks floating in the air. There’s a vaguely medical smell in the air, along with the last vestiges of fear and relief twined together. Jisung shifts in his seat, unsettled by the thought of having this conversation in broad daylight, sitting face-to-face. Things like this, _feelings conversations_ , are better left to the dark, when he can stare up at the ceiling and whisper out his worries and all that comes back is another disembodied voice from across the room.

This feels like a business meeting, with Jisung on one side and HyunjinandMinho as one entity on the other. They’re not holding hands anymore, which is a small relief for Jisung. One of Minho’s hands is on the table but the other, Jisung suspects, is on Hyunjin’s knee. Hyunjin has his arms wrapped around himself like a deep chill as set in on this summer afternoon.

“Jisung—”

“I—”

He and Minho speak at the same time before smiling politely and gesturing to each other. After a brief back and forth of “You go ahead” and “No, you,” Hyunjin finally cuts in and tells Minho to just go. He can probably smell Jisung’s apprehension. It’s not that he doesn’t want to talk to them because he does, he wants things to be clear so they can go forward on the same page, but at the same time, he really doesn’t want to go first. It’s easier to react to what they say rather than opening with his own thoughts.

“The other day, uh, in the studio,” Minho begins, eyes darting to the table before coming back up to look at Jisung. “You made your boundaries clear and I—we—want to respect that.” At this Hyunjin nods, giving Jisung a small smile. “So this isn’t like…a challenge of that or something. I just think maybe we weren’t having the same conversation?”

He stops speaking there, but Jisung has no idea what’s expected of him. He looks between the two of them, trying to figure out what they’re waiting for him to say, but comes up blank. He’s not even sure how much of that conversation Hyunjin is in the know about. He doesn’t look surprised, so Jisung has to assume that Minho told him they talked about…something at the dance studio. Maybe their relationship really is far more open than Jisung thought.

He lets it build in his mind for just a second, the thought of getting to hold Minho close and kiss his pale lips. How nice would it feel to have that fierce protectiveness wrapped around him?

But no, he cuts it off quickly. Even if Hyunjin is okay with Minho and Jisung doing whatever, being whatever, Jisung is not okay with being a thing on the side. Hyunjin deserves better than that. (If Felix were in his head, he would say Jisung deserves better than that too but that’s an overwhelming thought at the moment so he lets it settle in the back of his mind for now.)

“I think…” _the conversation was clear_ feels a little aggressive, so instead he restarts. “I mean, to me…I appreciate your, uh, romantic interest, but I don’t…” He trails off, gaze jumping between the two of them before landing on the table. Despite not eating anything, his stomach is tumbling and turning. From his sideways spot on his chair, his tail is dangling off the seat, flicking anxiously. Every time he notices it, he stills it through sheer willpower, but the second his focus is diverted, it picks back up again.

Across the table, Hyunjin’s eyes go wide, mouth forming a small pout. “You’re not interested in us?” He looks, of all things, crushed.

“No!” Jisung is weak for those big eyes and the silver flecks along the edges that seem to glisten as he shifts under the overhead light. “I am. Obviously. I mean, you’re like, perfect and all that,” he says, hand waving vaguely at Hyunjin. “Beautiful. And you too,” he’s quick to add, lest Minho feel left out. “You’re so passionate and quiet but also weird and loud and—but, I’m not—I mean, I don’t want to…come between you.” The last words come out slowly, sounding pathetically anticlimactic after his unintentional professions. He can’t let Hyunjin think that Hyunjin is somehow lacking, not for one second.

“Come between us?” Hyunjin repeats, nose scrunching up as he glances over at Minho. “How so?”

He’s really going to make Jisung lay it out, isn’t he?

Ears flat on his head and cheeks aflame, Jisung continues, “I like you both, a lot, but…I’m not comfortable being…I don’t want to be a side thing. I know some humans have multiple hybrids, but I don’t want to do…that. Even if you’re both okay with it.” The last bit he adds for Hyunjin’s sake, as the owl hybrid is looking more confused by the second.

It stresses him out, how baffled they both look. That felt as clear as possible, yet somehow they seem to be moving away from a mutual understanding.

Before he can elaborate any further, and make more of a fool of himself in the process, Hyunjin whirls in his seat and sends Minho the fiercest glare Jisung has ever seen on the otherwise gentle hybrid’s face. Jisung is immediately reminded that owls are birds of prey.

“I thought you said you talked to him about this,” Hyunjin accuses.

“I said I tried,” Minho says, glancing at Jisung with something akin to panic. “He turned me down. I thought he understood?”

“Does it sound like he understood, Minho? This,” he waves at hand at Jisung, “is not what understanding looks like.”

Jisung tries to keep his jaw from hitting the table. He’s seen the way Felix and Chan interact, like equals, but to see such blatant disrespect from a hybrid to a human, it makes his heart beat faster. Quite frankly, it’s more than a little intimidating.

It’s also more than a little bit attractive, if he’s being honest. Hyunjin looks positively fierce, amber eyes narrowed, lips pulled down in displeasure. For all his soft feathers and quiet presence, his body is fit and strong.

“He turned me down, Jinnie, what was I supposed to do?” Minho pouts. It’s almost more than Jisung can take, seeing Minho’s delicate features, always so stiff and cold, looking petulant.

Hyunjin inhales deeply, rolling his eyes heavenward before turning to Jisung. He smiles, like they’re sharing some great joke. “He’s got the emotional competence of a radish, I swear. Can’t ask him to do anything.”

“Hey!”

Jisung giggles before slapping a hand to his mouth. Was that rude? He couldn’t help it. It was such a relief to see them at ease, almost like they were the night of the bonfire. Somehow Jisung has been brought in as Hyunjin aligned them against Minho. The entity of MinhoandHyunjin was broken up, leaving them as just three people at a table.

His tail stops flicking, coming up to curl in his lap now that his stomach feels a little less tumultuous.

“I’m sorry,” Jisung says, loathe to break the sense of contentment, “but I’m still really confused.”

To his surprise, the tension doesn’t see to flare back up. Both Minho and Hyunjin smell vaguely pleasant, something almost fond and the owl hybrid smiles gently at him.

“Let me put it like this,” Hyunjin says, “we like you. Both of us. We have, as you put it, a romantic interest in you.”

Jisung frowns, feeling both hopelessly lost and painfully hopeful. “But, two hybrids…Isn’t that, I don’t know, against the rules?”

“The rules are bullshit,” Minho says. “All the hybrid rules are abso-fucking-lutely insane and—”

Hyunjin rests a hand on Minho’s shoulder, cutting off his tirade. “We all know, Min. But now’s not the time for a hybrid rights rant.” He looks to Jisung, face open as he asks, “Is that why you thought you’d be ‘a side thing’? Because you and I are both hybrids?”

It’s one of about a hundred problems, but sure. If that’s where Hyunjin wants to start. Jisung nods, shifting his feet until he feels a bit more grounded. His tail is still across his lap like a seat belt and he begins stroking it.

“There are a lot of rules about wat hybrids can and can’t do, but it’s all nonsense,” Hyunjin says, leaning in like he’s imparting secret wisdom. “Hybrids are just as smart and good as people.”

“Better,” Minho adds.

“And what we choose to do in the privacy of our own home is nobody’s business. Even if Minho wasn’t here at all, even if it was just you and me, if we chose to live and love together, then that’s what we should be able to do. Love is love, right?”

Jisung nods, feeling oddly teary. It’s so different than what he’s always seen on the television, but it sounds just like something Jae would say. Jae had always, in that fierce, outspoken way of his, told Jisung over and over again he was just as good as any human. Equal. And if hybrids and humans were truly equal, then Hyunjin’s words didn’t seem that far of a stretch: a hybrid’s love was just as valid as a human’s.

“I still don’t understand what you want from me,” he says, feeling like a disappointment. They’re being so patient, so open, yet he still isn’t following. Gesturing between himself and Hyunjin, he says, “You want us to date? And us too?” He switches to pointing between himself and Minho. “Like a…a rotation?”

It’s odd, for sure. But, as Hyunjin said, it’s nobody’s business but theirs. If that’s what Hyunjin and Minho want, then maybe Jisung can do it. To get to love either of them, let alone _both_ of them, would be a blessing. If they want some weird triangle of sharing, he’ll do it.

“Not quite,” Hyunjin says, taking up Minho’s hand and stretching out his free one to Jisung. After a moment of hesitation, Jisung reaches out as well, grabbing hold weakly. The downy fur at Hyunjin’s wrist barley brushes against his thumb. It’s exactly as soft as Jisung dreamed it might be, maybe more. “We love you. And we hope you love us.”

“I do. I mean, I think I could, if you’d let me.” The way they both glow at his simple sentence makes him want to bury his face out of sight, but he settles for feeling the burn of his cheeks.

“Not so much a rotation,” Minho says, reaching out his free hand as well. Jisung takes it, surprised to find the faintest tremors there. It’s hard to imagine Minho, with his face of stone, as scared or nervous, yet here he is, baring his soul and trembling as he does so. “But just the three of us, together, loving each other.”

“The three of us?” Jisung repeats. He can’t think of anything else. His mind is full of static and his chest is fit to burst. “I’ve never…I mean, can you do that?”

That startles a laugh out of both of them. “Why not?” Hyunjin asks, smiling wide enough to show his teeth.

Jisung glances between them, struggling to pull a coherent thought together. It’s as though someone had just informed him gravity doesn’t exist. Can it really be that easy? He’s never heard of it before, never seen it before. It was always jealousy and betrayal on the shows, never this openness and infinite love.

“It’s a lot to take in,” Minho says, squeezing Jisung’s hand. “If you need some time to think about it, we understand.”

“It won’t always be easy,” Hyunjin adds. “Minho and I fight sometimes and I’m sure the three of us will too. But we don’t want you, or any of us, to ever feel left out, or like you’re secondary, so we’ll have to make sure to communicate well.” He looks between Minho and Jisung, as though sealing them to a contract.

“I’m willing to try if you guys are,” Minho says. They both look to Jisung.

It’s a lot. He’d come to the table ready to plead for friendship and here they were, offering him so much more. It’s hard to imagine. He has no basis to know if such a thing could possibly succeed. But, thinking back on his conversation with Jeongin and then with Felix, he knows in his heart he wants to be here, with all them, and most especially these two. He wants what Felix and Chan have.

He doesn’t want to mislead them, however, so he shyly adds, “I’ve never been with anyone before, so I don’t really know…I’m not sure what you’re expecting?” Hybrids don’t date, after all.

“That’s okay,” Hyunjin is quick to say, “We don’t have any expectations. We can go as slow as you want. We’re all figuring this out as we go.”

“Thank you.” Jisung’s smile is a little shaky, but no less genuine for it.

“You don’t have to thank us for that.” Minho squeezes Jisung’s hand as he says it. “Relationships are about respecting each other’s boundaries. We should all agree to speak up if we’re ever uncomfortable or uncertain about something. It’s the only way this will work.”

Hyunjin and Jisung both nod their agreement. It takes Jisung a moment to find his voice again, feeling off kilter from their gentleness. They both wait, watching him softly as he gathers himself.

“I think, no, I know I would like to try, uh, this. But, um, if it’s alright, would you mind if I had a little time to myself? To collect my thoughts?”

“Of course,” Hyunjin agrees. He gestures to Jisung’s ankle, still propped up on the chair. “Can I give you a piggy back ride somewhere? Upstairs? Outside? Just say the word and you’re there!”

It’s a little startling how eager Hyunjin looks to physically carry someone around. Jisung hums as he thinks. The shower turned off a while ago, so Jeongin is probably sleeping in his own bed. “Outside, maybe? And…” He bites his tongue, but reminds himself of the agreements to honesty they just made. “Could I maybe borrow your phone?”

“I forgot you didn’t have one this whole time!” Hyunjin says, hand flying to his mouth. Besides him, Minho has already dug his out and showed Jisung the passcode. Hyunjin whacks Minho on the shoulder, saying, “Why haven’t you taken ‘Sung to get his phone? What’s the point of all of you humans having a license if you can’t take him on a trip to get his phone?”

“It’s fine, really,” Jisung says, mildly panicked at seeing them fight again because of him.

“No, it’s not!” Hyunjin says, frowning grumpily. “And until you’re comfortable berating this silly, silly human, I will do it on your behalf.” He winks at Jisung, immediately soothing the cat-hybrid’s worries that Minho might take any of his complaints to heart.

When Hyunjin goes to bend down to scoop Jisung onto his back, he freezes, eyes darting between Jisung’s face and his tail.

“You can pet it, if you want,” Jisung offers, holding up the furry appendage. Hyunjin looks nothing short of honored as he reaches out and strokes his fingers over it so lightly Jisung can barely feel it. “It feels nice. Calming.” He says it in the hopes of getting Hyunjin or Minho in the habit of petting his tail. He misses Jae’s petting viscerally. Humans, he’s learned, can absolutely be trained into giving the good pets.

“It’s so soft. Minho, you have to feel it!” Hyunjin looks on the verge of tears as he strokes with more and more confidence.

Jisung startles them all when he lets out a low purr.

“Lord, give me strength,” Hyunjin says, hand flying to his heart. “He’s too cute. I can’t handle it.” He flips his hand over to press against his forehead as though he may faint away any minute.

*

“Hello?”

“It’s me,” Jisung all but whispers, cradling the phone to his ear with both hands. He’s once again settled on the lawn, though with no small amount of fussing on Hyunjin and Minho’s parts. From his spot, Jisung can just barely see Hyunjin doing some sort of bizarre, outdoor yoga around the side of the house. Minho is indoors, doing some paperwork for the studio until Seungmin starts dinner. It’s oddly relieving that Hyunjin and Minho went their separate ways when Jisung did. He was worried they might have squirreled themselves away to talk about the newest developments in their relationship and, though they are certainly within their right to do so, the fact that they didn’t feels like a demonstration of their commitment to making him an equal partner. A time will come when they can pair off now and again, be it for quick conversations and whole evening dates, but Jisung knows he isn’t there yet. That confidence needs to be built.

“Jisung! I’ve missed you so much, baby.”

Jae sounds so genuine Jisung thinks he could cry.

“I miss you too.”

“Why haven’t you called more?”

“I didn’t want to be a bother, interrupting you guys all the time.” He digs little trenches in the dirt with the toe of his shoe as he says it. Humans have such busy lives compared to hybrids, who have no choice but to stay home and wait. It feels wrong that Jisung should be the one whining for attention when they have so much more on their plate then him. But he had to call. His heart is in knots of equal parts excitement and terror.

“You’re not a bother, Sung. Never.”

He’s not sure why it happens, but Jisung bursts into tears. He sniffs and wails pathetically, unable to stop himself. Across the lawn, Hyunjin fumbles out of his position, frantic, just as Felix throws open the screen door on the porch. Jisung waves them both off, calling out reassurances between hiccupping breaths.

_“—I don’t know, he just started crying!”_ Jae says, voice distant from the receiver.

“ _What do you mean he just started crying? What did you do to him?”_ a voice, equally distant responds. There’s the sounds of a brief struggle before Younghyun’s voice comes in more clearly. “Jisung, baby, what’s wrong? Are you okay? Do you need us to come get you?”

_“What’s happening? Is Jisung okay?”_ A third voice, Dowoon maybe, shouts in the background. _“Jae, what did you do?”_

“No, no, I’m okay,” Jisung chokes out, rubbing a hand at the snot dripping from his nose. Gross. He wipes his hand on the grass as he struggles to get a full breath in. “I’m okay. Better than. I’m really happy.”

“Are you sure?” Younghyun asks slowly. Across the lawn, Hyunjin is eavesdropping poorly, having remained in the same position since Jisung waved him away. That’s okay. Jisung has no secrets from him.

“They love me and I think I love them.” It’s not enough to explain the situation, but it’s the best Jisung can do between his finally receding sobs.

“I’m so happy for you.”

_“Tell him if they hurt his feelings even once I’m gonna go over there with my hedge trimmers and I’m gonna—”_

_“Jae, enough,”_ Younghyun scolds before turning back to the receiver. “We’re happy for you.”

“But I love you guys too,” Jisung says immediately. “All of you. So much.”

“Of course.” Jisung can picture the exact smile Younghyun is wearing. It’s that soft one, the one that makes him look so young and so beautiful that Jisung always needs to wrap him in a hug right away. “The heart never runs out of love,” he continues. “There are so many types of love and you have so much love to give, Sungie. You can love them and still love us.”

“That’s okay?” Jisung asks, voice choked once more.

“That’s okay.”

From inside Jisung can smell chicken beginning to roast. He can smell rosemary and garlic as well. Potatoes probably. Corn too. Dinner won’t be long now.

“I have to go,” he says, sniffing to keep from crying again. He’s not sure what he’s done to deserve such loving people in his life, but resolves to never take them for granted. He’ll work every day to be worthy of such unconditional love.

“Alright, we’ll talk again soon. We all miss you and love you. Very much.”

“ _I miss you,_ ” Dowoon calls from the background. _“We have a surprise for you soon!”_ He’s shushed quickly, but Jisung heard it. What the other is referring to, he has no idea.

“I love you guys.”

The call ends with a chorus of _goodbye!_ and _we love you!_ After the line disconnects, Jisung closes his eyes and tilts his face back, letting the sun warm his cheeks and his ears. Distantly he can hear the little brook babbling and a few squirrels scratching their way up trees. He feels light.

“Need a ride?”

When he opens his eyes, Hyunjin is there, grinning at him, hand outstretched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I did The Talk justice! As I mentioned above, there will be one more chapter. And it's still very possible I'll write some one shots that take place later in this universe so we can get more of them as an actual, established couple! Let me know if you're interested or if there's anything in particular you're dying to see. I don't know for sure when the next chapter will go up, but most likely next Thursday or earlier. 
> 
> Have a great New Years Eve & Day, Stays!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of notes, friends:
> 
> 1) I am SO sorry for how long this took! I got into what I thought was a minor car accident which quickly spiraled into an insurance nightmare. Now I have a new car. Then grad school hit and I was completely dead for a bit there. So here is this belated update. I hope it lives up to your expectations.
> 
> 2) Credit for the feather scene idea goes to nanajinnie. When I saw their comment, I just had to include it :D
> 
> 3) Lastly, I know a lot of hybrid fics have smut in them and I know some of you might have been expecting this last chapter to contain smut. However, I'm ace and I'm uncomfortable writing that sort of thing. If there's a reader out there who is super eager to write some poly smut in this universe, I'd be more than happy to share a few thoughts and put that as a work in this series. Come talk to me at  tumblr  if you're interested. 
> 
> 4) A big THANK YOU to everyone who gave this fic a chance. Your support means everything to me! This idea initially started as a 6,000 word one shot and, well, here we are now.

Dinner arrives with its usual level of chaos and Jisung has little time to think about the new developments in his life. He, along with Minho and Hyunjin, get more than their fair share of knowing looks, but everyone seems content to let them be for now.

Before dinner, Felix had pulled him aside to check in (likely a byproduct of overhearing Jisung sobbing on the phone). Apparently the fact that Jisung couldn’t stop smiling while he explained what happened was enough to satisfy Felix’s worries.

As much as he’d like to be seated with Minho and Hyunjin, all three of them end up at different spots around the table. It’s not uncommon for the couples of the house to be broken up at the dinner table. Everyone’s close enough that good conversation can always be found, no matter who you’re sitting between. Some part of him is relieved that he isn’t expected to demonstrate some newfound couple-ness in such a public way before they’ve even had a chance to give this three-way thing a shot.

Despite his relief, Jisung still shoots glances through his fringe at Minho and Hyunjin (his boyfriends? Is that what they are?) while he munches on his dinner. Almost every time he finds their shy eyes peering back, widening whenever they lock glances. It never fails to make something warm burst and bubble in his chest.

It’s as the dishes are being gathered and whines about who has to clean what fill the space that Chan comes up next to him, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Can I speak with you afterwards?”

Jisung’s mouth goes so dry, it’s painful to swallow. “Sure.”

“You’re not in trouble,” Chan says, offering a smile. “Just need to talk about something.”

“Yeah, sure.” He tries to smile in response. Chan pats him on the back and moves to take over dish washing, as Felix always gets too excited with the spray nozzle. Already Jisung’s stomach has turned to lead. Is Chan going to threaten him not to hurt Minho and Hyunjin? Chan’s protective, undoubtedly. And it’s not like Jisung knows what he’s doing. What if he does end up hurting Minho or Hyunjin? Maybe they’re rushing into things. Maybe there’s no chance this will work out.

“Are you okay?”

It tickles a bit, the way the feathers on Hyunjin’s wrist brush up against Jisung’s as he takes his hand. Jisung’s heart flies into double time, but as he glances around, there are no judgmental eyes. No one’s even watching at all. It doesn’t register as unusual to any of them, let alone be perceived as a threat or a misstep in propriety.

Jisung is allowed to hold Hyunjin’s hand. He can just do that, whenever he wants. It sends a giddy thrill through him, easing up the weight in his stomach slightly.

The thought barely crosses his mind that his other hand is sadly empty before Minho appears there, grabbing it up. Minho’s other hand is occupied with Tupperware of freshly-packed leftovers.

“Chan wants to talk to me.”

Minho rolls his eyes. “Tell that overprotective mother bear that we can take care of ourselves and if he threatens you, I’m not giving him a ride to the opening of that music store next weekend.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing, though,” Jisung says, dropping his voice to a whisper despite the general calamity of five other boys trying to clean a kitchen. “What if I make a mistake? I don’t want to hurt you guys.”

Hyunjin squeezes his hand. “Sung, we’re adults, we know relationships don’t always work out. We know mistakes happen. As long as we’re open and honest with each other, then we’ll know we’ve done our best no matter what happens.” It feels like a weak reassurance in the face of Jisung’s building doubts, but Hyunjin smiles so sweetly as he says it that Jisung finds himself nodding along. If Jisung wants this to work, then he has to be willing to take risks too.

By the time everything is packed away, washed up, and wiped down, Jisung has settled his heart a little bit. He _knows_ Chan is the furthest thing from cruel. He’s just trying to keep everyone’s best interests at heart. He won’t yell or anything else scary.

Minho still shoots their eldest a severe look as he and Hyunjin filter out of the kitchen. To Jisung’s surprise, it’s both Chan and Seungmin who remain behind. The latter drags his backpack over to the table and pulls out a folder.

Jisung drops into a chair across from the pair of them, mind abuzz with increasingly bizarre thoughts. Will he have to sign some kind of contract that he won’t ruin anything for Hyunjin and Minho? Are there relationship guidelines he has to adhere to? Hybrid-human codes of conduct?

Chan looks, of all things, excited as he grins at Jisung while Seungmin painstakingly lays out a few documents on the table.

“We have a present for you,” Chan beams. Jisung recalls Dowoon saying something similar on the phone conversation, but he’s hard pressed to see how these papers, seemingly filled with legalese and official looking stamps and signatures, could be a present for him.

Once four or five papers are laid out, facing him, Chan and Seungmin look at him expectantly, the former with far more inability to control his excitement. When Jisung only blinks at them, Chan nudges the papers closer. “They’re you’re papers,” he says, like Jisung has always dreamed of owning a few pieces of paper.

“Because of Minho and Hyunjin?” he asks. For some reason, he finds himself very reluctant to pick up the documents. He genuinely has no idea what is being asked of him and he suspects he’ll only be more confused if he tries to parse through technical terms.

Chan blinks, surprised. Seungmin sighs and begins rooting around in his backpack.

“I mean, I guess?” Chan sounds crestfallen, hurt even, as though Jisung lashed out. Why he’s the hurt party in this situation is beyond Jisung. “But, Jisung, all of us care about you a lot, not just those two. And this,” he taps the paper, “isn’t contingent on your relationship with them. That’s why we picked Seungmin, just like with Felix.”

Jisung stares. Felix signed a dating contract too?

“I thought Felix had explained his situation with me, but maybe not…?” Chan looks just as baffled as Jisung feels.

Hyunjin’s words of honesty come to mind. Even though he wants to curl away and just tell them to do whatever they want with his life, he needs to step up and ask for clarification.

“I don’t understand,” he says slowly, feeling like an absolute idiot for admitting it. “What is this?” He can see his own name a few times on the paper as well as, oddly enough, Seungmin’s. Does “Hybridized-being” mean a hybrid? Is that what he is, a hybridized-being? The form on the furthest left has a title, a series of long words and numbered codes, which tells him precious little other than the word OWNERSHIP.

“Here,” Seungmin says, finally locating the item in his backpack. “Told you we should have started with this,” he adds to Chan.

What Seungmin pulls out and drops on the forms is a collar. It’s a smooth, supple leather of a deep, night sky blue. Jisung reaches out and turns the little tag so he can read it. Engraved on one side of the gold circle is JISUNG, while the other reads BLACK RAGDOLL.

“I had to guess on the color,” Seungmin says. “We can get a different one if you’d like. Or multiple. Lixie likes to change it up.”

Jisung barely hears him. The kitchen melts away, taking with it the faint sound of chatter from the other room and the lingering smells of dinner. There’s nothing but the steady weight in his hand. The collar is light yet durable. It’s well-made and probably not cheap.

“Jisung?” Chan asks, resting his hand on Jisung’s outstretched arm.

Jisung has no words. There’s nothing but the weight on his fingers. It almost tingles where it touches his skin. A collar, a real collar. _For him_.

“Seungmin had the papers prepared for you. They’re forgeries, of course, but they have the official government seal. No one would ever figure it out.”

“I have good friends in helpful places,” Seungmin says before Jisung can ask. Abruptly, an image of Seungmin as leader of a covert, radical activist group builds in his mind.

Jisung lets his free hand skirt over the papers. He doesn’t understand so much of the language he sees. The words are technical and multisyllabic to the point of incoherence. But these papers are his chance at freedom, at a life of not having to look over his shoulder.

The excitement is chased immediately with a crushing dread.

“But who…?”

“The papers list Seungmin as your owner. It’s sort of our pattern,” Chan says with a smile.

Jisung can’t smile back. His stomach is in tight knots.

“Thank you,” he croaks out.

This seals it. These papers—his freedom comes at the cost of tying himself to these people and abandoning his past family, the only family he’s ever known. It’s not that he doesn’t want to be here, but how can he sign his life away without so much as talking to Jae?

“Jisung?” Chan squeezes his hand. “I know it’s a lot…”

And, shit, now he’s disappointed Chan by not displaying adequate gratitude. After everything they’ve done for him. He’s tied to the table through his hold on the collar, but everything else is falling out from beneath him. A void seems to have opened in his stomach, sucking and pulling at the good feelings of the day.

It hits him rather suddenly: Jisung is _exhausted._

“Jisung?”

“I’m sorry,” he says, staring hard at the table in hopes of hiding the tears building in his eyes. Was it only this morning he woke up and debated running away? Only a few hours ago he and Jeongin were attacked?

“What are you sorry for?” Chan asks. He sounds so damn worried. A cup of water appears at Jisung’s side. He never even heard Seungmin get up.

“You’ve all been so nice. I want to stay here, I do. You’ve all been so wonderful to me. But, it’s just, my family—”

Chan laughs lightly and cups Jisung’s hand within both of his. “Baby, who do you think asked us to prepare the papers?” Jisung looks up sharply, forgetting he’s supposed to hide his red eyes. Does Chan mean what he thinks he means? Chan continues, “Jae and Younghyun called me up and asked if we could do this for you. We’ve been working on the papers for days.”

“Jae and Younghyun?” he asks, mouth suddenly dry. “They know about this?”

Chan’s eyes go wide. “We thought it would be a nice surprise. But, this is such a huge change for you, I’m so sorry. We shouldn’t have done anything without your permission.”

Jisung blinks as Chan looks increasingly distraught. Chan thinks Jisung is…upset?

“No,” he says quietly, rushing on as Chan looks even more panicked. “No, no, I’m not upset about that. I’m…relieved? That they know. That I don’t have to choose.” It’s true, even if Jisung’s lips feel numb and the words feel clunky. The wave of relief is so strong, it nearly topples him forward on to the table. Jae and Younghyun know about this. They approve. They want this for Jisung. And if Chan has been in contact with them—it’s not a far reach to assume that Jisung will be allowed to remain in contact too.

“Oh, thank goodness,” Chan says, one hand going to his chest. “You scared me. But, yeah, they know. And, even if Minnie has the papers, that doesn’t mean you can’t see them whenever you want. You could stay over for days or weeks at a time, if you want. You’re not a prisoner here. And I want to say it again, this is totally separate from your relationship with Minho and Hyunjin. I’m so happy for you guys and I think they need you more than you think, but really, your place here is unconditional. Okay? It’s really important to me that you understand that.”

“I understand.” His voice shakes, but he does understand, as much as possible, anyway. It feels too good to be true, but he knows Chan and Seungmin. This isn’t a prank, nor is it a trap for taking forged papers. “T-thank you. Really, this means so much.”

“We just want you to be happy and safe,” Chan says.

He carries the collar upstairs in cupped hands, holding it out before him like a baby bird. Seungmin said he’d send copies of the paperwork to Jae and then make copies so Jisung and Seungmin can both keep one on hand. Jisung doesn’t really care about the paperwork—it’s just a lot of big words he doesn’t know that label him as officially someone’s property. The collar though, this small loop of soft leather in his hands, it’s tangible. It’s a new direction for his life. He knows almost nothing about the outside world, other than what he’s seen on dramas and those, apparently, aren’t always reliable. The thought of going out into the human world is overwhelming and he feels not ready yet, but he knows the others will help him. It can be baby steps. They’ll let him set the pace.

Jeongin is in human-form, asleep in his bed. Changbin is absent, likely at the demand of Jeongin. Jisung’s night vision is only slightly better than a human’s, but it’s barely nine, and a good bit of moon light comes in the window, enabling him to pick his way across the space safely.

Jisung lowers himself to lean against the foot of the bedframe, where his small pile of stuff lives. It’s mostly clothes and the green blanket that still smells like his family, but it’s what he has of himself for now. That’ll start to change soon, he supposes.

He lifts up the corner of the green blanket and reaches in its folds. Gently, so as to not bend any of the barbs, he pulls out Hyunjin’s feather, the one he lost the night of the bonfire. It’s still in perfect condition. It’s still beautiful, a white sliver with a black sheath at the edges. The barbs sway and pop back as he runs his finger over them.

“I don’t blame you, you know.”

Jisung startles, dropping the feather, and whips his head around. It takes him a moment to place the voice. He can barely see Jeongin from here, but the glint of his eyes is unmistakable.

“It was my fault for not backing down,” the younger continues, voice quiet but clear. “I’m sorry I put you in that position.”

“It’s okay,” Jisung whispers, because whispering feels right for this small moment in the night. It feels like a link between them, this experience no one else has. “I hope you’ll let me go out there with you again.” Though when Chan will let either of them out of his sight is another matter entirely.

Jeongin hums and shifts, letting his eyes close as he burrows back into the sheets. “I’d defend you again too. In a heartbeat.”

Already he’s not sure if the fox is asleep, but he still says, “Me too.” Just in case.

This is my family, he thinks, letting his eyes trace over the lumps in the blanket before returning to the small pile of things before him. Not a new family, not a replacement family. Just more family. A bigger family.

The exhaustion washes over him again. There’s no fear or stress to keep it at bay any longer. He glances over at Changbin’s bed. Changbin may be a cuddly koala half the time, but sleep is maybe his highest priority activity. On a normal day Jisung is quite sure he’d be bodily dragged off the mattress if Changbin found someone else in his spot, but maybe because Jeongin is here, hurt and asleep, he’ll let Jisung get away with it.

There is one other place he could sleep…

He’s weighing his options—and the likelihood of kitty eyes and flattened ears as a persuasion technique—when Jeongin speaks.

“Just go to them. Jesus.” With a huff, the fox mashes his pillow repeatedly for burying his face in it.

Jisung blinks at having been caught. Jeongin makes it sound so easy, like it’s just a matter of standing and walking.

The night of the bonfire comes back to mind. How he wanted so badly to bury himself within them, to bask in their warmth and kindness. The turmoil he’d felt over wanting them.

They’re his for the taking now. The only thing standing between him and them is his own worries. They’ll wait for him, they’ll wait a hundred years, but that means he has to take the first step. He has to carve out his own happiness.

“Good night,” he whispers, gathering his blanket, his collar ( _his collar!),_ and the feather in his arms.

He’s never been up the staircase to the third floor. It creaks just slightly and Jisung almost turns back more than once, but he knows Hyunjin has to have heard the creaks. If he turns back, they’ll know. There’s no way but forward now.

There’s a flurry of shushing behind the door as he brings his hand up to knock.

“Come in,” Hyunjin calls, barely letting the knock finish.

The room is bigger than the one Changbin and Jeongin share, with a large queen bed facing the doorway. The walls are wood paneling on the bottom and a very faint red paint along the top half. Along the shelf that runs the expanse of the room to divide the bottom and top halves, are shiny baubles and trinkets. Hyunjin’s, if he’d have to guess. Maybe the other has a little magpie in him.

There’s big bay windows, complete with a small loveseat, to the left and what looks like a door to a bathroom in the back right corner. The room is like its own little house, a nest at the top floor.

Jisung clears his throat. “Hi,” he says. It’s only because of the things in his arms that he stops himself from waving awkwardly.

“Hi, baby,” Minho says. The older is laid out on the bed, propped up on his elbows so he can see Hyunjin, who’s seating with his legs crossed at the end of the bed. As far as Jisung can tell, they weren’t in the middle of anything when he walked in. At most he’s interrupting a conversation.

“Come join us,” Hyunjin says, patting the bed next to him.

He nods, before pausing and awkwardly nodding to his bundle. Why did he bring this stuff? Where is he going to put it?

Hyunjin gasps, unfolding from the bed with more grace than Jisung has ever possessed and crossing the room. “They gave you the collar! May I?” Jisung nods his permission and Hyunjin takes the collar into his hand tenderly. In the low lighting, the supple leather slides between deep blue and black as Hyunjin twirls it this way and that. “It’s so beautiful. It’ll look great on you.” As he goes to put it back on the blanket, Hyunjin freezes before bursting into laughter.

“You kept this?” he says, giggles bubbling out of him as he holds up the feather by the stem. A blush erupts across Jisung’s cheeks. Why did he bring _that_? What was he thinking?

“Seems like a reasonable thing to do,” Minho says, cheeks inexplicably pink as he refuses to meet Hyunjin’s eyes.

“It’s pretty,” Jisung offers lamely as Hyunjin doubles over, snickering loudly. He can’t quite explain why he kept it, or even why he took it in the first place. It _was_ pretty, gorgeous even, but he’d taken it more because he wanted to keep the memory of that night fresh and close at hand. The kindness they’d shown him, the fun they’d had. He doesn’t ever want to forget that light, excited feeling in his chest.

“Jinnie, stop laughing, you’re making him pout,” Minho calls from his spot on the bed. Jisung, unaware of the pout that had built on his lips as Hyunjin laughed, quickly tries to even out his facial features.

“But you’re so cute when you pout,” Hyunjin says. Taking a step closer to Jisung, he tucks the feather over Jisung’s ear. It’s a light presence, barely discernable if not for the faint tickle. “It’s really sweet, Sungie, that you kept it. And let me tell you a secret…”

“Don’t you dare,” Minho calls from the bed.

“Minho kept a feather too, back when we first met.” He waves a hand towards the windows. Sure enough, a solitary feather sticks out of a narrow black glass vase, like a majestic yet goth flower. “And Minho—”

“Jinnie, don’t you dare.”

“Minho knocked the feather clean of my head, just whacked it right out.”

“There was a bug in your hair. How many times do I have to tell you there was a bug?”

Jisung blinks, awed and terrified at the way they click together so naturally. They flow seamlessly. He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t intimidating. They have so many years between them compared to how long Jisung has known them. But, he reminds himself sternly, they choose him. They wanted him. All he can do is hope to one day share in that same level of fluidity. Someday it’ll be all three of them ducking and weaving together.

He can’t wait for that day.

“I brought my blanket. Is that okay?” He asks. Immediately shame floods his sysmtem. He brought a blanket. Like a toddler. And to do what? Leave here? Isn’t that rather presumptuous of him?

“Oh, perfect!” Hyunjin says excitedly. “That’ll help make the bed smell like you quicker. It looks really soft,” he says, shoving his face closer to the green fabric.

“I’ve heard cat hybrids really like having lots of soft things,” Minho adds. “If there’s more blankets you want to bring from your family’s house, or if you want us to buy stuff, we totally can.”

Jisung squishes the blanket closer to his chest, nearly dislodging the collar off the top. Your family’s house. Not the other house. Not your old room. _Your family’s house._ Jisung isn’t losing anything by staying here, only gaining. There’s always room for more people to love.

“Thank you,” Jisung says, voice struggling out of his tight throat. He resists the urge to squirm in the face of their kindness.

“We just want you to be happy and comfortable, baby,” Hyunjin says, running a hand through Jisung’s hair. His long fingers brush by the base of Jisung’s ear and he can’t stop himself from closing his eyes and letting out a tiny purr. “Oh,” Hyunjin says, and Jisung can hear his grin. “That’s the good spot, huh?”

“Hey,” Minho whines, “I want to pet too.”

Jisung can hardly believe his ears. They’re excited to pet him, an act they get nothing out of. They’re excited to take care of him.

"Here, get in. You've had a long day, you must be tired." Hyunjin puts Jisung’s collar on the bed side table and tugs him into the bed, making sure his green blanket is pressed close. The three of them tangle together, Jisung in the middle. In the distance, he can hear Felix laughing about something. Seungmin’s breaking into Chan’s secret chocolate stash by the sounds of it. He can hear them all, going about their lives in this one house. Minho’s fingers are scratching along Jisung’s head, paying particular attention to both of his ears, while Hyunjin’s long fingers stroke Jisung’s tail reverently. He can feel the feathers of Hyunjin’s wrist where his arm is flopped across Jisung’s chest, where it remained after poking Minho in the belly.

“You smell nice,” Hyunjin says. There’s simply no way Jisung smells as amazing as they do, but he accepts it. Hyunjin had told him in no uncertain terms that he’d have to get better at handling compliments because Minho and Hyunjin weren’t ever going to stop.

“Are you comfortable?” Minho asks as he shifts to bury his head along Jisung’s shoulder, pressing a tiny kiss there.

“Yeah, I’m comfy,” Jisung says, squirming deeper into their warmth.

He’s never been more comfortable in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be more in this series. Currently I have 3 one-shots in this universe planned out, though it may be several months before I'm able to get them up. Please be patient with me >.< Additionally, I'm working on a fic for EXO, one for NCT, and one for Seventeen, so if any of those are of interest to you, go subscribe on my profile!
> 
> Thank you for reading!!

**Author's Note:**

> Friends, this is my first chaptered fic in a while so I'm a little bit nervous >.< The rest of SKZ will show up next chapter, I promise. Comments & kudos really mean the world to me and I'd super appreciate your feedback if you have the time! You can also hmu on tumblr at rose-of-tori. 
> 
> If you haven't already and you're interested, please go check out my k-pop multi hurt/comfort series! A Seventeen story will be going up next week and (*Fingers crossed*) a NCT story the week after. 
> 
> I'll see you guys next Thursday! Stay healthy & safe, Stays <3


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